


Olympus of Darkness

by RionaHGoch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alive James Potter, Alive Lily Potter, Almost insane Harry Potter, Almost sane Voldemort, Amazing Harry, Awesome Harry, But Tom Riddle is more, But maybe it won't, But you will have to wait for it, Dark Harry, Death Eaters, Death Eaters are good evil folks, Everyone is dark here, Evil Harry, Female Harry, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Harry Potter is a fucking beautiful female, Harry Potter is called Freya, Harry Potter is fucking awesome, He can become a great guy later but now no, He doesn't go to Azkaban, I don't have a beta, I just noticed that some chapters have more violence than I expected so be at you own risk, If you like him I'm sorry, It can be a happy ending, It's like they have the same insanity level, James is a dick, Lily is lost and a fool, Manipulative Harry, Maybe the rating will be explicit later, More tags? Maybe later, Multi, Other Boy-Who-Lived, Politics, Powerful Harry, Ron Weasley Bashing, Sirius Bashing, They are lovers!, This Is STUPID, This will be a very long fic, Underage Sex, Well - Freeform, What Was I Thinking?, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived, alternative universe, always a girl harry - Freeform, and even Voldemort doesn't beats him, and he is fool, and is an immature adult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RionaHGoch/pseuds/RionaHGoch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On October 31, 1981, Lord Voldemort broke into the house of Potter, where Petunia Dursley looked after the twins Holly and Llyod Potter. That night, Lily Potter lost her sister and her daughter - her sister to death and her daughter to darkness. Ten years later, a girl named Freya returns to Hogwarts trained in magic and with one goal - to help her beloved Tom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first fic! Hope you like it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Any familiar situations belong to her books. Also in some chapters I use direct excerpts from Harry Potter books, I'll write at the beginning of the chapters when this happens. 
> 
> I don't have a beta.

 

> _"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing;_ _Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before"_
> 
> _-Edgar Allan Poe_

Prologue

October 31th, 1981 - Godric's Hollow

Lord Voldemort, aka Tom Marvolo Riddle glared the babies. Llyod James Potter and Holly Lillían Potter. The Child of Prophecy and his beautiful sister. How could someone think that a small drooling baby would defeat him - one of the most powerful Wizard of all the time? Well, the girl had potential - the amount of raw power he could sense! But the boy would be an average wizard.

Both of them were silent. The girl studied him with an astute stare and the boy was just drooling. Both of them had black hair like their father, but nothing else showed him that they were brothers.

The boy was a little chubby and had cocoa brown eyes, his messy hair made him a carbon copy of his father - of course the Dark Lord wasn't aware of this. The girl had a shoulder lenght straight hair, and her pale skin contrasted with her Avada Kedavra eyes.

Their parents were gone. They were in a meeting with Dumbledore, Voldemort knew. They would return anytime. He looked to the boy. The child would pay and it didn't deserve such a beautiful death as the one the Killing Curse provided. No, the curse he wanted to use wasn't so effective, but so painful that the eager to use it was almost unbearable.

He casted it. Just to see the girl threw herself in front of her brother.

The curse rebounded. Voldemort felt the pain, as did the girl. The wizard felt into his knees and the witch started crying. He had never felt anything like that. It wasn't like the beatings he received in the orphanage, it didn't felt like the Crucios he had used in himself to make him immune to the pain. It wasn't just physical pain, it was pure. The idea of pain that tormented the mind of the cowards, the nightmare of pain that the brave would always surrender to. As if wax slid down his skin, as if a knife cut his organs, as if his brain was compressed by his skull. It felt like his skin was being removed from his body and a sword was tearing him apart. Suddenly, a hand touched his and he felt ease. Peace in a hurricane, time in an escapade, water in a run, or maybe lust inside a convent.

“Sowy”. The voice was gentle although the baby accent. It didn't want this to happen, it was just saving its family. It was unpardonable, yet for the first time in his life, he wanted to forgive her and just enjoying such power. And he did it.

“Child.”

The wizard looked to the girl. In any other time, that childish expression would have annoyed him, but she was soothing his pain with the touch. And Salazar, she was powerful!

He needed to leave, he could return later to kill the boy, but the girl…The girl he was unable to abandon.

That night the Child of the Prophecy was taken by the Dark Lord, leaving behind the corpse of a Petunia Dursley, a couple filled with grief and a False Boy Who Lived.


	2. Chapter 1 - The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years had passed since the night Voldemort took Holly to an island in Ireland. Since that, the two of them had been declared dead, yet, they are still in in a strategic retreta. Now, it's the time to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here I'm again. This chapter will focus mainly in Freya (Holly) and Tom relatioship. Most of the explanations of what have happened during these ten years will be in chapter two - and there are also the ones that won't be revealed so soon. Hope you like this chapter!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Any familiar situations belong to her books. Also in some chapters I use direct excerpts from Harry Potter books, I'll write at the beginning of the chapters when this happens. 
> 
> I don't have a beta.

 

> _"In a mad world, only mad are sane."_
> 
>                             _\- Akira Kurosawa_
> 
>  

August 1st, 1991 - Ireland

Freya Hella, one girl that used to be called Holly Potter, was reading. She was always reading. Morella was a short story by Edgar Allan Poe that Tom had given to her on her 4th birthday after three days of her prodding. But she couldn't read three words without looking away. Tom would came today - she was almost sure of that. He visited her once a month.

Freya was in her suite, also known as Gray Tower. The walls of her bedroom in the fifth floor were ivory, except the one behind her four-posted gray bed that showed a painting of Dark Woods. A iron chandelier hung from the ceiling. The floor was black cold stone and a black wood escritoire was at the other side of the room. In an adjacent room was her dresser with a full length mirror and her closet – all gray and well-adorned . In the fourth floor was the bathroom, in a Victorian Style and her library, that also took up the whole third floor. There was an unused room in the second floor that would supposedly house her children while she nursed and a private room that was the small version of the one she was, in the first floor. The room had two loveseats and two armchairs and one divan. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and a portrait of herself at ten in the wall. Several mirrors reflected the dark furniture and fire burned into a gothic black stone fireplace. In the sixth floor there was an observatory.

Her  birthday had been the day before. There was a time that none of them celebrated their birthdays, but when she was three she asked the meaning of it to Tom and asked his. 31th of December. Since then she started counting the days until his birthday. It's been eight years since that, and she never lost the count.

She loved Tom. Adored him, respected him. He told her everything. She knew that both of them had almost died the night he took her. She knew that her biological family was alive, but she had no wish to see them. If they were enemies, she would kill them. If they were allies, she would make sure they never betrayed Tom. They would never be her family, neither her friends…Freya smelt the air, he was coming. She got up, combing the hair with her hands.

Voldemort watched the girl with his crimson eyes. She was like the goddesses that named her. A fragile stem that held so much power. Her pale ghost-like skin made her look like a spirit, yet her emerald eyes were so lively. Her cupid’s bow lips were smiling in her doll face. She wore the black silk peignoir that he had given her two months ago. The manuscript were she had rewritten Morella was in the armchair.

“This Muggle story again?” He asked with a disapproving tone.

“You know that Muggles are rather intelligent. We just accept everything that magic brings to us, and don’t look for any kind of explanation about how it’s possible, and where reality ends and fantasy starts. If we researched, we would probably find an answer faster than them. But you guess what? Nobody does!” She ranted. Since last month she had been reading about Black Holes Thermodynamics and was rather fuelled by it. Voldemort casted her a disapproving look.

“I know this, as you know that I don’t appreciate being lectured by anyone. I don’t discourage your Physics Studies, but I expect you to do not blame me for other’s actions. And you weren’t reading about that, Morella is a fictional work, and although rather entertaining it doesn’t pertain the area you were quoting.” Voldemort reasoned while indicating her to give the manuscript, what she did.

“I’m sorry, I guess I overreacted.”

“You guess?” He raised a eyebrow.

“Oh, Tom. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t think about talking to you like this. You have come here just to see me and my first word to you was this. I’m sorry.” She said, almost sobbing. She hated upsetting Tom. Sometimes she passed so much time without talking to anyone that she forgot her manners.

“It’s alright, child. Why don’t you come and sit with me?” He invited, placing himself in a loveseat. She immediately accepted the invitation, cuddling herself beside him. The Dark Lord started to caress her silky waist-length hair. Tom appreciated the texture in his fingers, she gave off a scent of lilies, the scent of death.

“I have two books for you.” He told her, handing the presents.

“Thank you, Tom.” She gave him a kiss on his cheek. “ _Necromancy: The Art of Death, Vol.III_ , oh, I was so excited to read the continuation! And _A Brief Study of Metal: Elemental Magic.._.”

“…to the ones who already mastered all the others.” Voldemort ended with a smile. A real smile. The shining eyes of his mate always made him remember that he could still have some emotions. Happiness, Anger, Hate. Pleasure. Pain. Freya was convinced that he could also feel sadness, but she would always work hard to this theory do not have any prove. He knew that sometimes she also wondered if he would feel some kind of love for her, and he also knew that she would always discard that wondering. He was the Dark Lord, he could not feel love.

She looked up to him, and he could felt the satisfaction she felt for him being happy. Voldemort could read her like an open book, and the same worked to Freya. Her eyes spoke of admiration, adoration, devotion. He didn’t love her, but he appreciated. That was more than enough, Merlin, that was an exaggeration. His hands petted her hair like it was an spider web, delicate and beautiful, that could rip apart anytime. “Thank you.” She whispered.

He removed a lock of her face touching her skin. “It was your birthday yesterday. I received a Hogwarts letter two weeks ago. You must go. There is something I want you to retrieve. The Philosopher’s Stone.” She nodded silently. Nicholas Flamel must be a fool if he thought that his stone would be safe in Hogwarts, but if Tom wanted, she would get it. However, she couldn't bring herself to say it. She feared her voice would break the perfection of the moment. Tom was relaxed, planning, but satisfied. If she talked she might disturb his peacefulness.

His hand held her chin and gently he let his lips caress hers in a chaste kiss. One minute later he pulled away, still fondling her face. Freya smiled and the Dark Lord returned it. He was being so loving today, he was so pleased with her. In ten years, she had never felt so much proximity to him, so much love for someone. /Tom/ she hissed in Parseltongue.

/It’s almost time, my dear. We will return to the Wizarding World, and this time nobody will be able to defeat us/

/I’m so sorry, Tom. If wasn’t for me you would have conquest the World already. You would be an Emperor. So powerful/

/Foolish child. I could become the Emperor even with you still in training. But I didn’t want to. An Emperor needs and Empress, a mate. Who else besides you?/

/But still, if I learned faster. If I was more powerful, Tom.../ He slapped her. Voldemort watched her swollen cheek, and although she didn’t make a sound, neither moved an inch, he knew she felt more pain that she let him know.

/Don’t disagree with me, remember? You are the most powerful witch I ever heard of. More than Helga Hufflepuff, more than Rowena Ravenclaw. Even more than Morgaine Le Fay. You learn faster than anyone could wish to.  You know all kind of magic, all kind of Muggle Science, all kind of swordplay. The later is something rather peculiar, to be true. How can someone so petite hold an weapon?/

Freya chuckled. Well, she knew that her swordplay wasn’t at all so advanced, but she did very well with a foil in fencing, thank you. Voldemort smirked and healed her cheek with a wordless and wandless spell.

“Something else?” She asked in English.

“Some details about your acceptance in Hogwarts that we could discuss in dinner. But I would appreciate an walk, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, Tom.”  Freya agreed happily. Only when Tom came she was allowed to exit the castle. “Yes. Come here, my dear.” She obeyed without a second thought. Voldemort gave her a small box, with cobras engraved. She opened it to see an emerald choker. It was beautiful – small diamonds and bigger emeralds wrapped the whole jewelry, in the center, a pendant with a huge emerald.

“I tried to find an emerald with your eyes color, but I guess the Killing Curse lent all its color to you.” Freya smiled again. Tom loved to mention the color of her eyes, without doubt, it was his favorite part of her body. The second was her hair and the third, her loyalty, the fourth, her power, the fifth, her lips and the sixth, her cleverness, after that she didn’t know.

“Thank you very much, Tom. It’s amazing.”

“I’m glad you like, because you are going to wear it all days of your life. We should go.”              

* * *

August 3th, 1991 – Ireland

Freya had lived all her live in _Farraige de Olc,_ Sea of Evil in Irish. When Tom had come there with her almost ten years ago, all they found was an ruin of a castle. One week later the Dark Lord had rebuilt it with magic and renamed it. A great gothic castle with high cellars and large stairways. Chandeliers lighted the place and its beautiful tapestries. It looked almost abandoned again, except because of the house elves. Lord Voldemort came there once in a month, and mostly of time Freya spent in her suite or in the greenhouse, growing all kinds of flowers.

Farraige de Olc was in a small island that nobody knew the name (Tom had called it Hella after some time), just one of the several islands of Ireland. The woods around the castle were mostly the house of birds, some deers, wolves and foxes when they arrived.  Now, it was the home of unicorns, aethonans , snakes of all sizes, runespoors, acromantulas, sphinxes, manticores, hipogriffs, porlocks, blast-ended skrewts, lethifolds, chimaeras, re’ems, occamies, griffins, graphorns, granians, abraxans, salamanders, undines, slyphs and gnomes, there were even some Wild Phoenixes, one Basilisk and one Dragon. There was a village of Merpeople in the lake, with some Kelpies and a community of Fairies, Pixies and Doxys. Sometimes Freya would pick a Golden Snidget to play Quiddicth when she was little – but it wasn’t very fair with the poor birds.  Sometimes Freya thought that her island was like a deadly supernatural zoo.

Voldemort and Freya had gone for a riding that morning, she in her granian, Sleipnir, and he in his thestral, Kholoros. Freya explained her theory to her everything and Nagini (that was in Tom’s shoulders). When the wizard “invited” her to a flight, the twelve feet snake slid down and went to hunt.

/You once said that I turned the curse towards you because of simply power, that I was able to cast a shielding charm. We both know that it couldn’t be _Protego_ , neither _Fingolfin_ or _Abalonka,_ well, the fact is that there isn’t a spell that would be able to prevent the _Vaedanaava_ Curse, so I must have used just intent. Wandless and wordless/

/We also know that you were able to do magic with just intent without it being raw magic, thus I ask you to do not deny this. You weren’t unable to do intent magic/

/I wouldn’t dare to, my lord/ To this statement the Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. /Truly, I would dare, but I wasn’t planning to. No. I have been researching the _Vaedanaava_ Curse and discovered that the pain that we both felt was the real pain that anyone would, then I can’t have turned the curse/

/It’s conceivable. Continue/ He ordered while guiding Kholoros through the air.

/I suspect that is the Mate Bond fault. What we achieved that night was what most mates achieve after years. The Bond Ideal. At this stage, the highest that you can achieve in a bond, the mates share everything – pain, feelings, memories, lust, any kind of sensation to tell the truth. Sometimes mates can even share pregnancy. I have the memories of that night because you offered me them. When we touched,  the bond reached its apex and I was able to absorb the curse, ending it. This is possible because mates can control each other magic in the Bond Ideal/ Freya dove in the air with Sleipnir, her bow in her chest and the arrows in her back, Kholoros repeated the movement easily.  

/I don’t see any reason to disagree with that knowing what I know of bonds. But if you told me before that day I would never say that bonds can be created at the moment one mate sees other, like happened to us. I don’t recall feeling any different…Although I recall being very attracted to your magic/

Freya smiled to her mate while turning around her Lord. She watched a pheasant fly and then shot. When the bird started falling she accioed wandlessly the hunt and removed the arrow from its eyes. Watching the ground, she did the same with a rabbit. She liked hunting. Voldemort didn’t throw his time away hunting, he preferred to watch his witch doing it. “Chronos.” She called the house elf. Chronos was her private house-elf. Corrupted by dark magic, the elf had black skin and human shaped all black eyes and a small flat nose, he used an black tunic that was the uniform of all house elves. “Take this and prepare the lunch for us, yes?”

“Of course, my lady.” And it popped out.

Freya took the last chance to feel the wind in her face and felt Tom’s hands in her hair while they landed. He gave her a chaste kiss and touched her granian. The eight legged winged horse rested its face in her shoulder and she petted the gray animal. The witch reached his thestral (she had, of course, already seen death, and birth too, the birth of her twin brother, what to see granians was necessary) and caressed it. Kholoros was the only thestral with horsehair she had seen, but she liked it the wavy mane used in one of Tom's wands.

“Kholoros missed you, my lord. Sleipnir usually goes to the observatory to see me, Tom, and this time this thestral also came.” Voldemort ignored it, he appreciated the animal, but had no wish to discuss it. Freya knew this and didn’t expect an answer.

/The Stone will made me young again, my dear. I will no longer look like an fifty years old man like I do, and will be much more powerful. Do you understand?/ Freya nodded. She knew that her mate didn’t need to fear death because of the Horcruxes and that they also slowed aging and although it did made him pleased, it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t bear the thought of becoming an old frail man like Dumbledore. Like wolves, the old must be left to death and the young to reign – this was his opinion. He wished for that again. To be returned to his twenties. Still, he was handsome. His jaw length black hair adorned his beautiful face, his high cheekbones gave him an aristocratic look and his crimson shined with bloodlust. When both of them were on foot, she barely could touch his shoulders, but he would always hold her closer.  

He breathed on her neck, while holding her back. She wrapped her legs around him, to maintain the position. Behind, she could hear Sleipnir and Kholoros flying again, leaving the two alone. She knew that Tom wouldn’t consummate their bond before she was fourteen – the legal age to girls marry. Probably, he wouldn’t do it before she was fifteen to tell the truth. He was the Dark Lord, and although he really didn’t have any morals and mates couldn’t help but to feel attracted to each other, he also didn’t have any need. He enjoyed lust, but he wasn’t hungry for it. He craved to call her his, but that wasn’t the time. Contenting himself with another chaste kiss he sniffed her body. Lilies. The sickly scent of lilies.

Freya knew what he was thinking and also took a breath of his. Acorn. She chuckled. “What is so funny?” Voldemort asked.

“You, my lord. You smell like immortality. Acorn is the Nordic symbol of immortality, Tom.”

“And you smell like death, my beautiful goddess of war and death. Like your mother.”

“She will be pleased to know that I had something in me that resembles them, I’m sure.”

“I hope that you are pleased that you are so different from your parents. I wouldn’t want you to return there.” He snapped, a little of rage into his eyes because of the perspective of losing his equal.

“Of course not, my lord. I’m sorry, Tom, I didn’t expressed myself very well.”

She lowered her head, expecting his temperament. But he made her look into his eyes while playing with her choker. “You are mine, child. Don’t forget this and don’t betray me. This is all I ask of you.”

Freya agreed and that night, Tom went away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more like a summary to the story. I have written it until chapter four so I'll be posting this everyday, probably. After that I will take some time.  
> 


	3. Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya goes to Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter! Hope you like it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Any familiar situations belong to her books. In this chapter I used direct excerpts from Harry Potter and The Sorcer's Stone, that doesn't belong to me. 
> 
> I don't have a beta.
> 
> I also don't like this chapter. It's too fast to my taste, yet, I can't rewrite in another way. Sorry.

 

 

>  
> 
> _There was a merchant in Bagdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came back, white and trembling, and said, Master, just now when I was in the marketplace I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned I saw it was Death that jostled me.  She looked at me and made a threatening gesture,  now, lend me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate.  I will go to Samarra and there Death will not find me.  The merchant lent him his horse, and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop he went.  Then the merchant went down to the marketplace and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, Why did you make a threating getsture to my servant when you saw him this morning?  That was not a threatening gesture, I said, it was only a start of surprise.  I was astonished to see him in Bagdad, for I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra._

_-The Appointment in Samarra,W. Somerset Maugham_

 

At this time of story maybe you have already been able to grasp what had happened to the mates during ten years. Voldemort had willfully disappeared of the Wizarding World in hope of study his own situation, make his enemies careless, train Freya Hella and to resolve minor problems. To us, muggles and wizards, ten years must be a lot of time to a drawback, but to immortals, it would barely be classified as a gasp.

Voldemort felt pretty comfortable in this arrangement, he had a loyal and obedient equal, his goddess and mate. The Dark Lord had a Dark place to return and a brilliant witch to spend time. But now Freya training had ended and it was time to rise.

This Freya Hella was sat in a train to the board school where he had learned everything and she had nothing to learn.

* * *

September 1st, 1991 - Scotland

Freya watched the trees going away, and she could almost felt them waving to her as the train moved when the door opened.

Draco Malfoy was rather surprised to find that compartment occupied. There was a legend that one student had once committed suicide inside it. But he was more surprised with the one who was inside. Was that a ghost of a Veela? No, she had a wand. A student then.

“Pretty.” He said without thinking.

“Oh my, thank you.” Was his response, without a glance to his direction.

“My name is Draco Malfoy.”

“Freya Hella Nephthys”

“I don't know any Hella or Nephthys Family in the Wizarding World.”

“Well, I assure there isn't any Hella or Nephtys Family in the Muggle World, too.”

“I should have known, your name is everything except Muggle. Why are you called that? I mean, Hella reminds me of Hell.”

“I could ask you the same thing. Why are you called Draco?”

“My mum wanted a little dragon.”

“And instead she had a blond spoilt brat into a shinning armor. Next time you see her, warn Narcissa to name her children after something more discreet.”

“I'm trying hard to ignore the first comment." She snorted to that, hell, if the boy wanted apologies, he wouldn't find them there. She certainly wouldn't wake up every day to go thinking about the amount of injured pride she had caused. "Yet I guess I would appreciate mum's face. How you know mother’s name?”

“You don't care to the answer, so I won't give it. As for the other question, Freya is the goddess of love, beauty, war and death in Norse mythology and Hella the Queen of the Underworld, that was banned from the light. Nephthys the Egyptian goddess of death.”

“I guess this is pretty cool. And I wouldn't have asked if I didn't care.”

She chose to ignore, not in the mood to argue, but stating very clear that she wouldn't respond.

Freya knew that Draco was Lucius' son, a Death Eater that worked to Tom in Wizegamont. Well, certainly it couldn't hurt to know what Tom's subordinates spoke at home to their children hear.

One hour later Freya was in a compartment full of soon-to-be slytherins. She had extended the room to them.

“Blaise Zabini.” A beautiful boy with dark skin and chocolate eyes said, his hair curled around his face.

“Daphne Greengrass.” Was the name of a blonde pale girl with dark blue eyes and an aristocratic face.

“Tracey Davies.” A small tanned girl with blue eyes and an oak colored hair said.

“Pansy Parkison.” A brunette with fair skin and  brown eyes.

“Theodore Nott.” A brown haired boy with the most gentle eyes she had seen.

“Millicent Brustrode." One chubby girl with black hair and amber eyes.

“Freya Hella Nephthys.” She said. Tracey looked to her and asked: “Are you a Veela? A Siren or a Succubus?”

“Well, well, it's the second time today that people mistake me with a half-human. Your answer, dear, is that both of my parents were wizards.”

“Sorry." Draco and Tracy said together. “Oh, ignore it. How about chess? Who is the best of you in the King's game?”

Theodore and Freya played chess while the others played explosive snap. Soon, the beautiful witch found out that her adversary read Dark Romanticism and they started a heated debate about books.

“Hawthrone risked himself too much writing about the Wizarding World in the Scarlet Letter. I mean, he was born a century after the Salem witch trails.” Theodore was pointing when the door opened again.

“Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one.” A bushy haired witch asked.

“No." Draco said while Freya accioed the same. She gave the animal to the crying boy behind the witch.

“Here. I would suggest you to keep a eye in this one.” She advised to hear a sobbing thank you.

“What spell was it? And what is your names? I'm Hermione Granger.”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Freya." She said while muffling a “mudblood” from Draco. “Here are Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Millicent, Tracey and Theodore. The spell I used was accio, the summoning charm.”

“It isn't in the First Year books.” “A great fault of them, to tell the truth.”

“You and Theodore were talking about Muggle books?” The girl asked. “Romanticism, to be exact, you wanna participate?” The wizard invited and the girl accepted.

Freya motioned the girl to seat beside her and touched her hair. “Can I style it?” The other nodded and Freya transfigured a comb and started braiding the hair.

After a while the girl had her long hair into a low bun with braids and the boys were gone to change their robes. Freya undressed her roll-neck silk dress revealing her choker.

“Oh Merlin! This is the most beautiful choker I've seen.” Pansy pointed. “Who gave you this?”

“My fiancée.” Freya half-lied. The truth was that she and Tom were married because mating is considered marriage. But mates were rare, and arranged marriages, no.

“You have a fiancée?” Hermione shouted. Well, arranged marriage were common, but not in Muggle England.

“Most of us have. My sister is going to marry Draco. Millicent fiancée is a seeker in Slytherin, Terence Higgs and Pansy is a keeper, Miles Bletchey. Tracey doesn't have any but mine is her brother in Ravenclaw, Roger. Most of us are free to date who we want if we marry later but if you already is receiving such gifts I guess the same doesn't happen to you?" Daphne questioned.

“No. I'm his and just his. We live in Ireland together.”

“Do we know him?” The curiosity of Tracey was obvious.

“I would say no. We have been away from the world since some years.”

“He is older? How much?" Hermione had a disapproving look on her face.

“He is twenty-six.” Freya lied, using the age Tom expected to look like.

“Fifteen years! Who approves a fifteen years difference in a marriage?” Hermione shouted.

 _If I said that the age gasp is truly of fifty-four years she won't like, will she?_ “Hermione, you are being rude towards my family. I love my fiancée and I'm fully faithful to him.”

“Sorry, I overreacted.”

They took their seats and keep talking. “What house you think you will be?" asked Hermione. The other girls exchanged glances.

“Me, Daphne and Millicent will be sorted in Slytherin, it runs in the family. The most part of Tracey family is in Ravenclaw, but it's evident she won't. I don't have any idea about Miss Nephthys.” stated Pansy. “And you? What house you want to be?”

“The Boy-Who-Lived and a Ronald Weasley said that Gryffindor is the best. Well, it's the house of Dumbledore, no?”

“Don't listen to a Weasel and Potter. They are arseholes” swore Draco, sliding the door and letting the boys pass. “And we are the house of Merlin, _mudblood,_ you won't dare to say that _Dumb_ ledore is better than Merlin, will you?”

“Draco” Freya called in a stern tone. “Although I have to agree with you that Dumbledore is a fool I advise you to do not use that term to refer to muggleborns. And I ask you to do not offend the weasels, stoats or ferrets, they used to be capable to kill Basilisks and are rather cute. And Hermione, be aware that repeating everything you heard or read isn't a recommended attitude.”

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. It was cold to a Summer night, but the cold didn't brother Freya. She was used to it. A lively and deep voice shouted: “Firs' years! Firs' years over here!”

Freya turned to see a hairy half-giant saying: "C'mon, follow me -- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

And they walked to a lake where the sight of Hogwarts took the breath of many. The witch smiled, it was a beautiful medieval castle although a bit too friendly to her taste, she favored more superb constructions.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the half-giant suggested (it was an order, but Freya only received orders of Tom). Freya watched Draco enter in one boat with Crabbe and Goyle (the two bodyguards she had expulsed) and invite her, but she pulled Blaise to him and took Theodore and Hermione with her, indicating to Daphne take another boat with the others. Then she called a Neville.

The boats moved off and she tasted the air. Awe. It was amusing to watched the amazed faces. “I advise you to put your heads down” she said. “And Neville, hold that toad tight.”

“It's Trevor. Thank you again.”

“It's a pleasure. My name is Freya Nephthys and let me guess, yours is Neville Longbottom.”

“How did you know?”

“You look like your parents. I have already seen photos. You just have to lose some of the fat of child and you will be a charming powerful wizard.”

The boy smiled and then it cracked. “My family thought I was a squib until now. I won't be powerful. I don't know a spell.”

“Most of us don't, Neville. Freya is the only one I saw doing a spell.” The wizard tried a smile again and this time it lasted.

Freya smiled. All the Slytherin First Years and Neville and Hermione - whatever house they would be in. She hoped that they were played in distinct Houses to spread her influence.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there with a stern face.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the man. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." The professor guided them through the castle until a doorway where behind was probably the rest of the school.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment in the chocolate dirty lips of a chubby black haired boy, and on a red-haired boy's smudged nose, before leaving the chamber.

Some minutes later ghost came to say hello just to be returned with a dreadful silence. Freya smirked and said nothing, just giving a small nod to the Bloody Baron and the Gray Lady, the later a ghost that visited her every month to see if her mother's diadem was safe. Helena smiled and the Baron smirked. They have been getting along after Freya made Helena understand that all his sins had been paid by the chains.

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

The Great Hall was a lively place that scented Light Magic. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. The ceiling was a reflection of the pure night sky, it was even possible to see the Milky Way.

Freya returned to look to the Sorting Hat, that opened his month to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffis are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. There were some relived sighs across the First Years and Hermione giggled.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Freya watched a Hannah Abbot go to Hufflepuff with a Susan Bones, a Terry Boot went to Ravenclaw with a Mandy Brocklehurst, a Lavander Brown walked to the Lions and Millicent to the snakes with a smile. Michel Corner went to the ravens with Stephen Cornfoot. Crabbe and Tracey were sorted into Slytherin and the witch sat beside Millicent. Fay Dunbar went to Gryffindor and Kevin Entwhistle sat beside Hannah

Justin Flinch-Fletchley became a badger and Seasmus Finnigan entered in Gryffindor. Anthony Goldstein walked to the Ravenclaw table. Goyle sat beside Crabbe. When McGonagall called “Granger, Hermione!” The girl sent her a smile and was sorted into Ravenclaw. Good. She would fit there.

Daphne was sorted into Slytherin and Wayne Hopkins into Hufflepuff with Megan Jones. Both Bem and Kellah Oaken sat in Gryffindor table. Sue Li became a raven and Neville ended up being a Hufflepuff. There were so many of them! Luna Lovegood, a dreamy girl went to Ravenclaw and Isobel MacDougal too. Ernest Macmillian sat with Wayne. Draco Malfoy was sorted immediately with the snakes and Roger Malone entered in Ravenclaw. Finally, McGonagall shouted

“Nephtys, Freya Hella!”

Freya walked to the hat in a slow pace. She knew she was drawing attention. Most First Years looked like kids, but she was mature. Her silky uniform danced through the air. She loved it. The Sorting Hat was placed into her head.

“I must congratulate you for the shields, even Tom didn’t have so strong shields. But I need you to put some of them down.” The Hat talked into her mind. She smiled and dropped the shields that would help him, but not betray Tom’s secrets.

“I could say difficult, but this doesn’t translate you, child. I wouldn’t sort you in Gryffindor, you are brave but would never fit there. Besides that, you can be in any house.” It said, as if it was aking her to choose her own house. 

“Are you sure?” Freya said, dropping just one more shield. The hat peeked in those memories again, giving a knowing sight after that. 

“I see. Such great loyalty, I’ve never seen one so big. But just to one person. You would betray friends and family, but never him.” “Well, he is my family and my friend. He is the only person I need.” She snapped. “Yes, but you won’t fit with the ‘Puffs. Too friendly to you.” Freya nodded, she already knew this. Just thinking of her being with the badger gave her headaches.

“You have a great knowledge about everything, Merlin, your thrust for knowledge is one of the greatest. Yet, I’m not sure about Ravenclaw. You will never open a school book, this I can see, because you already know everything. What you need is a laboratory." The Hat was silent for a minute or two, thinking. "I recommend the Grey Tower, yes, there is one here. You already know Helena so she won’t have problems with you using it. It’s the less magical tower here, so you won’t have problems with your Muggle Experiences, and the South Tower is abandoned, but full of magic, you can train your magic there.”

She accepted the advice with a wave of her hand, ignoring the fact that the Great Hall must have been staring at her for several minutes. 

“Thank you, sir. Can I ask if one of the dormitories has private chambers to the students?” She had plan, yet, she needed a confirmation. Tom had spoken to her about it, and she was attracted to the idea. 

“Indeed, the Slytherins, but why…Oh, I see. Are you sure? Teleportation Portals are rather difficult to create, especially in Hogwarts.”

“I did it in all my island, and it has more wards than the school. I just need to create a passage to these towers and to my island. They are blood magic, so just serve to me. There isn’t any danger.”

“Well, I assure you that I won’t tell anyone.”

“Of course no. I trapped you in an Unbreakable Vow the moment you was in my head.”

It laughed, and Freya was almost sure that the vow was unnecessary. Yet, it wasn't bad being careful. “Cunning, in fact. May I have the honors?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very well…SLYTHERIN!”

Freya walked to the table where she was being heavy applauded and sat between Daphne and Draco.  “What happened?” Tracey asked. “You was there for almost fifteen minutes!”

“I was having an interesting chat with the hat. Did you know that hats understand the Murphy's Law?” Freya inquired as Theodore was sorted in Slytherin.

“Whose law?” Draco demanded. “Murphy's.”

“And what is that?” Inquired the wizard again.

“Anything that can possibly go wrong, does.” Theodore explained. “Honestly, even thermodynamics works with that and you can't just know?”

“It's muggle.” Draco stated as if that made the rest worthless. They clapped again as Pansy became a snake.

“Do not say that or I will give you the lecture I couldn't give to Tom.” threatened Freya.

“Who is Tom?" Asked Pansy.

“My fiancée.”

“He is twenty-six and they live together in Ireland.” Tracey told the boys while Padma Patil was sorted into the Ravens.

Three minutes later Parvati Patil went to the Lions. “Potter, Llyod!” The hall erupted in whispers while the chubby black haired boy walked proudly to the Hat.

“Salazar! I promise I'll be a good girl just please don't let that idiot be sorted in Slytherin” prayed Tracey.

“What do you think you are doing, Tracey? It's evident that the boy is a griffin. Fucktard and a pig!” Insulted Pansy, as a matter of fact.

“Look, it's the boy-who-lived-to-be-a-twonk!” Draco swore.

“Control yourselves!” Commanded Freya as the boy went to the Lions. “Well, you won, Pansy.” She said, giving the girl a galleon.

“What did you bet?” Inquired Tracey.

“That they would discover him to be a squib and expel him.” She answered with a smile. “It was a good bet, even if it wasn't truth.”

They burst into laughter together, as did their upperclassmen near there. Freya smirked - a point to her. “Pansy, return the money, she deserves it!” Laughed Draco.

After that, Dean Thomas was sorted in Gryffindor and Lisa Turpin in Ravenclaw. The redhaired boy ended to be Ronald Weasley and became a Lion. To end, Blaise went to their table and they told him what have happened.

“I wish I could change my name to the Blaise Armont the man my mother married one month ago, but he will be probably dead until the end of the year. Can you belive how is to stay alone with a Weasley?” He ranted.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Silent! Let's heard _Dumb, Le Door_ ” whispered Blaise.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!"

“Hey, I just hear St.Mungos' has a new patient in the mental asylum” announced Millicent.

“Trust me when I say he is everything but crazy. They are rather useless references to the Houses. Nitwit to Ravens, Blubber to Lions, Oddment to Snakes and Tweak to Badgers. It's like an advise of how fit in your house. Ravens can't be dummies, Lions must be strong and physical ready, Snakes must be purebloods and Badgers can't be cunning.” Pointed Freya. “Now let's eat before I get too sick with the sight of the Gryffindors to digest.”

 

* * *

Later that night, Freya analyzed her bedroom. The ancient four-poster bed with green silk hangings, and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread. Medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins covered the walls, and silver lanterns hung from the ceilings. Her bedroom looked very comfortable, but she didn't want that.

Transfiguring her wand in a pen she wrote the runes in the stone. _Kuyenda_ to travel. _Liikenne_ to particle. _Ómada_ to group. _Tiiviste_ to seal. _Magazi_ to blood. She opened her eyes and dropped her blood on the stone, sealing the magic.

“ _Peseja akear Saaral. Peseja akear Ömnöd._ _Peseja Fairraige de Olc.”_ The runes worked with her blood, they would look for the places she had dropped her blood  and named.

“ _Taxídia aíma Farraige de Olc_ ” unlike apparatate or the Floo Powder, Rune transportation didn't cause any discomfort to the blood donator, and killed anyone else. Well, it wouldn't kill Tom because he was her mate and he had Horcruxes.

And Freya had returned home.


	4. Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya attends her first class day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here is another chapter! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Any familiar situations belong to her books. In this chapter I used direct excerpts from Harry Potter and The Sorcer's Stone, that doesn't belong to me.
> 
> I don't have a beta.

 

> _I found it hateful, yet I wanted to be part of it._
> 
> _\- Storm Constantine_

September 2nd, 1991 - Ireland

Freya woke up at four a.m the next day. She walked up to the sixth floor to see Sleipnir. The gray granian sang his song and she smiled.

“Hello. How is Kholoros? Have you been seeing any abraxan mare?” The horse touched her forehead, seeking  to her entrance into his mind. She let the images of a chestnut aeothonan mare invade her mind, but Kholoros was alone. Thestrals were lonely creatures.

Thanátos, an eleven feet black mamba slided down to her body, curling himself around her.

/Ölüm sent you a rat, but I guess you don't want it./ Ölüm was the youngling of Thanátos e Nagini. /Are you going to the den of long beard?/

/Yes, Tom asked me to attend all the classes./ Freya hissed. /Yess, the speaker of darknessss is going to pay/ the snake threatened and Freya stared at him. /No, Thanátos, I live to serve my Lord and won't allow this/

/Very well, however I'm following you./ He declared with a tight grip in her body. The witch transfigured her night gown into a godet tweed skirt, an ivory silk button up shirt, black t-strap shoes, a Slytherin green tie and short tweed cape with the Slytherin crest. Then she put the silver hair comb Tom gave her.

“Chronos.” She called the house elf. “An unicorn is giving birth now, I need Ara to collect the blood and sent to me. Three salamanders died and I also want them. The basilisk is shedding its skin when it finishes, store the old skin.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Freya activated the portal and returned. It was seven o'clock when she reached the common room. Most people were still in bed but she was pleased to find that Daphne and Theodore were wide awake and Draco was still sleeping in the couch.

“Good morning, Daphne, Theodore and Draco.”

“Morning, Freya” they said, although Draco's response could easily pass as “Mourning”.

“I will go to the Great Hall, will you wait for the others?” The black haired witch stated.

“No, we can go with you” was Daphne's answer.

They sat at the almost empty Great Hall some minutes later. It was easy to navigate in the school for Freya because she used a Wandless point me charm and had created a map of the school last night.

Daphne and Theodore were discussing about arts when the students started to come. Freya ended her quiche lorraine and took a glass of her transfigured wine while analysing them.

Longbottom was the heir of the Noble House of Longbottom and although the lack of self-esteem, powerful. She could resolve that. Susan Bones was the niece of Amelia Bones, the Head of DMLE, and appeared to be humble.

Sue Li was a half-blood Chinese witch that came from a very influential family. It was quite curious why the witch had not returned to Okinawa to attend Makhoutokoro, the Japanese school of magic that most of East Asians attended.

Luna Lovegood was a genius. She had a strange manner of express herself, but was sharp and astute. She never stated her opinions with declarations, but with metaphors. An eccentric - she could hear the whispers of her roommates - soon all school would know. But there is a thin line between genius and insanity, and most people were confused by it.

Hermione was a whole library, useful in researches. Besides that, she had a great eager to help as seen at the train. She wanted to discuss subjects and in this they could help.

At the Gryffindor table, Lavander Brown and Parvati Patil had created a friendship – not really surprising, there were only four girls in their House that year - and were gossipers. As for Fay Dunbar and Kellah Oaken, they didn’t seem to have held any contact, Kellah sat with her brother and Fay with a second year.

Llyod Potter, a boy who was once her brother, was worthless. Truly, he had a great influence, but that was in the light side, and he would never became dark (even if he did, he would lost all his value). She was the Heir of Peverell _and_ Potter _and_ Gryffindor, not him. His power was average as was his intelligence. Nothing good could come from there.

Then, she noticed that there were some first years that she couldn’t recognize. Invading their minds, she found a dark blond Slytherin girl named Lily Moon, and remembered that the Moons were a pureblood family that lived in Australia. There were three Griffins that she was almost sure she had not seen named Sally Anne-Perks, a mudblood with a promising power, Sophie Roper, a halfblood with white hair, finally, an Eloise Midget that sat with Fay. She was ignoring a great number of Lions and deemed herself because of that. Nearly that morning she had thought that there were only four lioness in their year, and know she discovered more three. And a snake! How could she?

She greeted Tracey and Millicent as they sat in front of Daphne and Theodore. Pansy sat in front of her with a smirk and Blaise in front of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle with Draco. She stared the blond wizard and he sent his bodyguards away.

The Prefect Gemma Farley stood up and began to hand them their schedules. This Monday, they had Potions with Gryffindor at 9:00 a.m. and Herbology with Ravenclaw at 10:15 a.m. In the afternoon, Charms at 1:30 and Transfiguration at 2:45.

“Potions with Griffins! This is going to be fun!” Blaise said, satisfied.

At nine, Freya had already received her unicorn blood and stored it in her labs. Now, there was one more golden foal in the world and she had sufficient blood to several potions.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder there in the main castle, a fact that pleased the witch very much. The classroom had pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls, and that, although quite distasteful, helped to preserve the same.

Snape started the class by taking the roll call, and stopped and Llyod's name.

“Ah, yes. Llyod Potter - our new celebrity.”

Some of the students chuckled, but most stayed silent. Professor Snape finished the call and looked to the class. He was a dark figure. The black empty eyes and the greasy black hair. His crooked nose gave him a ugly look, yet he wasn't ugly - you noticed this with a second glance.

A Death Eater. Voldemort had told her that Dumbledore thought that he was spying them, and he wasn't in their side either - but several Death Eater weren't. Slytherins were always in their own side, the winning side. They were predictable, unlike Hufflepuffs, you never know what your most loyal servants will do to keep your cause.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making,” his voice whispered and the whole class was silent. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

The witch smirked, he was good. Most of Slytherins followed all his movements and his words, and most Gryffindors were left speechless - a great achievement. He stared her eyes and a moment of mutual happened between them, she nodded to his suspect and his eyes widened a little. “Destroy him.” She ordered.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

The chubby boy shuddered. “I don't know.”

“Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything. Miss Nephtys, would you happen to know?”

“Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death. To a more potent effect can be attained with a infusion of fennel and leaves of King's Spear, the yellow asphodel, this is called a Draught of Brief Death and if brewed wrongly, can kill us all.” Freya had created this potion when she was seven, and Tom had presented it to the world through the same Potions Master in front her. Snape was left speechless for a moment.

“Correct. Ten points to Slytherin. Don't glare at me Potter, you can try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“I guess I would buy it the Apothecary, wouldn't you professor?”

“Well, Potter. And what would you do if you were poor like your Weasley friend?” This time Snape was confronted by an enraged silence. “Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter? Miss Nephthys?”

“A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. It can also be found in the esophagus of horses as choke and in the large intestine as fecalith.  In alchemy, animal bezoar is the heart and lungs of the viper, pulverized together.”

“Excellent, Miss Nephtys, more ten points to Slytherin. Now Potter, tell me difference between monkshood and wolfsbane? Miss Nephytys, I ask you to prepare your answer.”

“I guess is very clear I don't know the answer, so why to ask? Mom won't come to you because of this. You didn't think I knew? Well, dad told me!”

“I didn't really expected to see your mother, Potter, but seeing how successful your father was raising you I guess I will. Miss Nephthys?”

“Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite, devil's helmet and Queen of all poisons. With large doses death is imminent.”

“Very well, ten points to Slytherin. Now, Potter, seeing how disrespectful you were I will take thirty points from Gryffindor and more twenty for not being prepared, and a detention with me Saturday. As you,” he looked to the class. “Why aren't you copying Miss Nephthys's responses down?”

As Freya didn't have any need to write down the answers they just stared each other. The class continued while they brewed a simple potion to cure boils. Except Freya, that chose to be alone in a corner and boil some healing potions, to help the Professor with the Hospital Wing. Snape didn't say nothing as he knew she capable as himself with potions.

The Potions Master criticized all Gryffindors and even some Slytherins while they mixed up the potion. One Gryffindor called Seasmus melted his cauldron and the potion seeped across the floor, burning holes into the students shoes. Freya levitated herself of the floor for a minute and banished the liquid from her area. Snape did the same with the rest. Then the boy went to the Hospital Wing and he discounted points of the Gryffindors around him for not telling him his mistake. The class ended after that and Freya stayed behind.

“Lady Nephtys.” Snape said as she gave him the vials. “It's an honor to be the first to meet you.”

“Indeed. I'm very glad too, to meet the one that have been acting as my intermediary with the Potions Community. He can be very secretive, as you know.”

“Yes, my lady. I would like to discuss with you some potions but I guess you…”

“I have classes now. We could see each other Friday, if you like.” This wasn't the suggestion that Freya made it look, but Snape accepted it anyway. “Before I go, I would like to ask you if you know that Lily is very well and happy, working as an auror.”

“To me, Lily died that night. She lost her daughter because of me, and we never talked again. She is no longer the same.”

“You mean that now she is a fool, worshiping and too light witch, that spoils her child. This isn't the bright Lily of your memories, I'm sure. However…” Freya stood up and walked to the door. For a minute, it looked like she wasn't going to finish her declaration.

“…I declaration of regret, even a hidden one, won't anything to a class, Severus.”

 

Although she was the one to leave later, she was also the one who reached the Herbology class early. She smiled to the Professor Sprout - a short grey haired witch with brown kind eyes.

Knowing that Theodore would please the Ravens, she invited the wizard to her group. After a while, Hermione joined them with a Luna Lovegood and Anthony Goldstein – a blond wizard with black eyes. Approaching them, the dreamy girl made a small curtsey, her eyes shining blue.

“What a beautiful granian it’s yours, my lady. A truly blessing privilege.” Freya nodded to declaration, her delight with it visible. A magic empath! Who would say that one of the most revealing powers laid in a First Year?

“I must agree, Luna. But please don’t call me your lady.”

“Of course, Lady Granian. There are Heliopaths everywhere, and they can be rather nasty.” Freya acquiesced, understanding _Helio_ as light, and Heliopaths as “the ones who follow the light” or light wizards. “Rather nasty? I wouldn’t want to face a misconception of a heliopath even if I had to die.”

Luna smiled to the only person who appeared to understand her besides her father. “Oh, lady granian, but have you already hear of a well-placed heliopath?” They shared a small laugh, the other members of the group confused. Before that meeting, Luna were a half-crazy but kind girl, now, there was someone else who understood her, and although that was only the  first school day, Freya had proved to be totally sane.

“Well, I don’t see what is so funny, but I also have never heard of _any_ heliopath. Would one of you explain?” Anthony Goldstein asked with curiosity and some irritation.

“I’m sorry, but if you can’t understand there is no use in telling you. Just try again, one day you might comprehend.” She gave the Ravenclaw a smile. “And my name is Freya Nephtys, it’s a pleasure to work with you.”

The wizard blushed: “A deadly name, mine is Anthony Goldstein.”

“How do you know?” She transfigured one of her fifty stones – plain stones that she transfigured into the book _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. “My mother is a historian, although it isn’t her area. I am quite interested in mythology.”

“And all of these don’t affect your beliefs.” She finished widening her smile, the boy agreed. “Good. It’s good to have open-minded people here, don’t you think Luna?”

“Heliopaths, those disgusting creatures!” Luna replied.

“Let me see if I grasped the idea” asked Hermione. “Heliopaths are prejudiced?” The other two witches hugged her. “Congrats, you have your hint” whispered Freya.

“Good morning,” said the professor as they sat down. “I'm Professor Pomona Sprout and I’m going to teach you Herbology. I am also the Head of Hufflepuff House. Herbology is a mandatory class to all students. This year we are going to start with the basics and I advise you to pay attention; there are some plants that can be very dangerous. Today we are going to start with the spiky bushes.”

The herbology class went very well. One of the bushes tried to shoot a spike at Hermione, but Freya deflected it with a Protego (using a wand and words, of course, she couldn't risk being discovered), because of that, most Ravenclaws became interested in her, something that just increased with her knowing all the answers - but she didn't have any eager to respond them, not passing as a know-it-all. She had to explain the concept of being disliked by one's wisdom and Hermione understood faster than she expected.

At the end of the morning, Freya had written her two essays in fifteen minutes without opening a book. The uses of spiky bushes and the cases of where some healing potions could be used weren't hard subjects to her.

In the afternoon, their first class was with Gryffins again – it was surprising the number of classes they attended together considering the amount of rivalry between them.  Filius Flitwick that was a famous dueler once, gave Potter a disapproving look while reading the roll call. He must had already meet the boy, most of teachers had and none of them liked the Boy-Who-Lived, except Dumbledore.

They had real reasons for that, as was proved when the boy preferred to target people than feathers while performing the levitating charm. _Wingardium Leviosa_ was a magic that Freya had learned when she was two but apparently, the only one along with her brother (this because of his Savior magic “training” before Hogwarts).  When Lavander Brown’s feather was kidnapped by the foolish wizard, Freya was rather pleased to act before the Head of Ravenclaw House. This gave her fifteen points and Potter another detention. Besides that, the girl would thank her later that evening, that event becoming the start of the end of Gryffindor and Slytherin’s hate – at least to Freya Nephtys.

Their last class in the day was Transfiguration, this time with the badgers. She knew she had to rush with that house, the Hufflepuffs were known to be loyal and that meant to everything. Once the House associated with one, they would never betray. It didn’t happened often, since Grindewald the ‘Puffs were representatives of Dumbledore – but that wasn’t a direct association anymore. Most of below thirties badgers were not branded, and potential loyal followers without binds were such a rare surprise that nobody could blame her for wanting to dominate them.

Freya smiled to the Slytherin and bid them farewell, sitting opposite them. She liked the snakes. They she was different, they could sense that the first time they saw her and let her control them while she was successful. They couldn’t know what was her propose, but knew she had potential to attain it. Slytherins were like that – they weighted people and chose who to follow, mostly of them would never put themselves into a direct power position and they would always abandon a drowning boat. Hufflepuff where the exact denial of them – they hardly ever put themselves into a follower position, never judged their leader when faithful, always preferring friendship over success and drowning together with the boat, even when the captain abandoned them.

Freya called Neville to her, also welcoming an Ernest Macmillian and a Wayne Hopkins. Hannah Abbot sat beside Ernest and Susan Bones beside Freya. “Where is Professor McGonogall? It’s her who is going to teach us, isn’t she?” asked Susan to them.

“There.” Freya pointed to the silver tabby cat in the Professor’s desk.

“What?” questioned Ernest beside her. “There is just a cat there. It’s weird but you must know that professor is a _witch._ ”

“Of course, but she is also an animagus. A registered one, you can look in the Ministry if you want, it’s a public information.” She explained.

“Again, what?” Hannah asked.

“Oh, sorry, you lived in the Muggle World with your mother until know, yes?” She said, looking into Ernest’s memories and manipulating some of them. “How did you know…” the blonde witch started yet Freya interrupted her. “You seemed to be a nice girl, so I asked Ernie your name because I wasn’t listen the start of the sorting. Ernie was worried with your friends making and revealed some additional information. I’m sorry if I intruded…Don’t look at me like this, there is nothing wrong with not knowing all the concepts, mostly of us don’t. It’s because of this that we are at Hogwarts. An animagus it’s a witch or wizard that can morph themselves into an animal. There are also Methamorphmagus, that can change their physical appearance. The latter is a hereditary skill, but the former can be learned – easily by natural born animagus, but not restricted by it.”

“Well, that was rather a speech, Miss Nephtys. I’m sorry to said that I will have to wait until third year to see all your knowledge. Take five points to Slytherin” said a just morphed Minerva McGonagall, turning to the rest of the class. “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. Most of the students breathed exasperated yet they soon discovered that this kind of magic wouldn’t be learnt before many others – needless to say that Freya transfigured a grain of sand into a full corpse since four. After some theory, they were given each a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. She did it in her first try, doing the same with all the objects the Head of Gryffindor gave her, after that, she started to help the Hufflepuffs around her.

“You need to visualize the transformation, see the match becoming a needle. If you don't there is no use  in waving your wand.” She instructed. “You also have to see the object you want it to become, preferably have already touched it otherwise anybody could transfigure a Godric Gryffindor's sword or a basilisk inside this room.”

She watched as Neville and Susan turned their matches in needles with smiles on their faces - receiving house points as herself had. Wayne managed to turn his match silver, but that was it (but it was better than the one's of the others students). Hannah and Ernest had frustrated expressions.

“Can I help you?” She offered, they nodded. “Wayne first, come here.” Freya putted her arms around the boy, holding his hand. “A needle and a match have almost the same bodyweight, feel it. But they have different purposes and are made of different materials. The shape is similar so you don't pay too much attention on it, but this doesn't mean you can ignore it. You understood the concept very well, now it's just details.” She felt the boy blushing as she repeated the wand movement. “You cast it, I will guide your body.”

Wayne smiled as he turned the match into a needle.  She transformed it again with her wand. “Good, now try it without me.” The boy did it again and was rewarded by house points.

“Who is the next?” Ernest became red as a tomato as she made her follow her wand movements, his greatest problem. Finally, he also achieved the transfiguration. Hannah difficulty was the most common, understanding the differences between the objects, theirs purposes and chemistry differences but also ended up doing it.

“Thank you, Miss Nephtys, it's always good to help the fellow classmates, an exemplar act. Twenty points to Slytherin.”

Later that day, Freya found herself near the lake, below an apple tree with two Gryffindors, four Ravenclaws, five Hufflepuffs and seven Slytherins. It was probably the first time in years that the four houses had a civil and rather entertaining conversation together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of Freya's explanations were based on material from Wikepedia and deepened by my own imagination. I didn't have any intention of offending someone while writing this chapter and I apologize if I did.


	5. Where loyalties lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come and see the place where loyalties lie, and why. 
> 
> WARNING: Scenes with intense violence. Sirius bashing! You have been warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here I am again! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Any familiar situations belong to her books. Also in some chapters I use direct excerpts from Harry Potter books, I'll write at the beginning of the chapters when this happens.
> 
> I don't have a beta.
> 
> Note: I know that Luna is in Ginny's year and Tonks graduates at 1991 at the original story, but in this fanfiction both of them are studying in Hogwarts at 1991. Because I want this to happen.

 

> "Wandering between two world, one dead, The other powerless to be born."
> 
> \- Matthew Arnold

October 18th, 1991 - Scotland

Freya’s arrival to Hogwarts had turned the school upside down, in a certain way. In a month, the girl had destroyed house boundaries across the first and second years. Teachers didn't have to separate fights among kids in the corridors, although the upper years still had their rivalry it was lessened. The upperclassmen had come to respect Freya as she talked with Peeves and the Weasley's Twins with ease.

She had stated herself as Slytherin queen at their first week, a fact Tom approved. The Ravenclaws knew they could discuss any subject with her and even seven years could be found in a heated argument with her - one that she would always win. The Gryffindors trusted their problems to her - mainly the problems with a certain Boy-Who-Lives and Weasley. The Hufflepuffs would always do everything to help her and ask help with spells.

Sat inside her room at Farraige de Olc, after finishing several potions to Snape and excusing herself from the class, she faced a decision that had come to her faster than she expected. Freya had to decide where to start in upper years.

The Gryffindors needed to be conquered before the whole Slytherin bowed to her in public. The Slytherins were already loyal to her, yet apprehensive about showing it to the world - they needed more time to value her. The Lions were friendly to her, after showing her skill in a broom Lee Jordan, Katie Bell and Oliver Wood were fascinated by her. George and Fred usually sat with her once a day (another reform she had promoted were inter house seating arrangements in Great Hall).

The Badgers were becoming her “friends”, however everything could change if Dumbledore noticed someone other than his precious Boy-Who-Lived. The Ravens were good, every year would ask for her explanations yet when introduced to dark magic some of them would freak out as Penelope and Michel Corner, she had to induce them to accept it.

She smelted the scent in the air. Acorn. Tom. A satisfied Dark Lord pressed his lips onto hers and pulled her petite frame to his lap.

“Freya.” He breathed, his hands in her hair and then in her neck, holding the choker. “You used it.” Voldemort pushed the hair and kissed the skin and then stopped, placing her head in his chest.

“The Stone?”

“On third floor protected by a Cerberus, Devil's Snare, Flying keys and a magic chessboard. There is a sphinx like “challenge”, some trolls and the Mirror of Erised. Nothing too difficult.” The Dark Lord pulled her hair violently, making her face him. “So, why aren't you if it?”

“I need to stay until the end of the term, if I get it now, Dumbledore will be uneasy.” The grip eased a bit. “You should have discussed it with me." He hissed, in a chaste kiss.

“I'm sorry.”

“Well, and the students?”

“The first and second years are mine, and mostly of the third. Slytherin has already defined its position as allies. I would like to know where I should start.”

“Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. This order, although I would prefer if you did it simultaneously.” He commanded, as Chronos popped out with a plate of fruits. The Dark Lord pulled a grape into her mouth, smirking. She was cute to watch, pouting as she noticed his eyes lingering in her. Both of them understood what was the others thoughts, although they couldn’t hear it. Voldemort knew that she was regretting the absence of chocolate and Freya, that she could ask for it if she wanted – Tom wouldn’t care. Yet, she didn’t order that, satisfying herself with what he had ordered. The wizard let an enjoyment wave hit her through their connection and didn’t order the chocolate.

“You are…” she started, testing the ground. After seeing he was open to jokes, she continued. “…Very easy to manipulate.”

“You too, my dear.” He laughed, giving her a chocolate truffles box.

“Well, I’m not the Dark Lord.” She answered.

“Yes, you aren’t. Still, you did a great job.” Tom stated, fondling her hands as he stole a chocolate from her and swallowed it. “Hum…too sweet.”

“It always is to you. I could ask why are you so happy, however this would be a waste of words, as I suspect you are going to tell me anyway.”

“Yes, yes.” He said absent-minded. “You know me well. Once I would find this uncomfortable but now I welcome the idea. See? You changed me and I allowed it.” He took another truffle even if he didn’t like it – or perhaps he did and though that it wasn’t fitting to a Dark Lord, who knows? The wizard poured some Pixie Wine to them and tasted it. “Great harvest. Even the Muggles’s Grand Cru can’t be compared to this.”

“Are you serious?” Freya asked, knowing it was comparable, better, but comparable. “Almost. I have been tasting some Yokai Wine last week and you know they aren’t my favorites.”

“So you went to Japan. Are these the reason you are so happy?”

“Yes. The kitsunes, tengus and yurei agreed to join us. The Kochi, the Hiruko and the Kuki families were rather pleased to follow and the Kamo family also did after some persuasion. The Ketsuga is still considering, yet I believe it will happen. Naturally, all their subordinated families also are in my reign. Only the Hikari and the Seimei families refused and I used the _Anaba_ spell to steal their memories. I didn’t ask Zen family as their position is very clear.”

“Well, I guess it comes with the name. I have met two Chinese witches in Hogwarts, Sue Li and Cho Chang, I could befriend them.”

“Yes, that would be good. Most of the Changs live in England but there are still some powerful branches in China. The Li family is huge and one of the most influential in the Chinese Wizarding World. I am going to there in three months.”

“”To where will you travel now?”

“Igor has being inviting me to visit Durmstrang but I am going to visit the Czar Alexei before. He is old, that one, but never stops to be amazed with the fact that Muggles believe he has been dead since thirteen, he always shows me the movies where he appears.”

“Well, you can’t really blame the Muggles for not thinking of magic. It was good to him although I wouldn’t want to govern a Wizarding Empire from Chukoltka Autonomous Okrug area.”

He laughed and kissed her lips again, his tongue almost slipping into her mouth. Tom smoothed her hair, wrapping it in a hair ornament that she couldn’t see. When he finished, she was able to see the silver kushi with what she thought to be shell teeth.

“You are good in this.” She commented.

“Oh no, I used a charm, I was just torturing you.” Voldemort smirked. “I will visit you more this time but I have to go now, my dear.” He excused himself, kissing her forehead. Freya watched as her mate went away. Then, she also stood up and decided it was time to return the school.

* * *

 

They had Defense Against Dark Arts that afternoon and Freya dreaded that. Since their first class with the Gryffindors, Sirius Black favored his own godson, in an immature attitude. Freya was glad that Tom had cursed the position to not have any lasting teacher years ago.  There were also the disgusting act towards her, knowing that she would become a beautiful lady and trying to take advantage of it.

She rolled her eyes to Daphne as he called her _pretty sly_ in a reference to her House. The witch wanted to use the _Htwat Raka_ Curse to expel all the blood of that body, but that mostly liked would reveal her disguise. That was the only class she sat with her housemates, because they sat at the bottom of the room.  Pansy made a nauseated face and Tracey let a loud laugh through her lips.

“Who would guess that Snakes knew how to laugh?” asked Sirius to the whole class. “Would you care to share the joke, Freya? I was a prankster, you can ask McGonagall if you want, I know how to enjoy a good joke. Don’t you, Llyod?”

“Yes, Padfoot. I’m very curious, what kind of joke makes a snake laugh?” The boy asked with a grin that he always wear during the DADA classes.

“Professor, this is unnecessary.” Said Freya, penetrating in the man’s mind and making him believe that she had promised a talk to him later, and that he had gave her a detention. “We both know that a prankster rule is to never share its secrets.”

“Yes, Freya. Of course.” His voice was so disgusting that Freya had to hold her puke. The whole class looked very shocked with that, but Freya just shuddered to the doubting look of Daphne and whispered the words that soon all the Slytherins have heard - _The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one_ _._

“Harry, what is the name to the wand-lightning charm?” asked Sirius.

“Lumus, Padfoot.” Was the response of the boy. Freya rolled her eyes as the boy received fifteen points to answering the question that was probably the easiest of all Hogwarts. Freya suspected she knew the charm even before meeting Tom.

“Blustrode, what is the curse you should use if facing an Inferius?” The professor questioned. Freya was almost screaming, that was a N.E.W.T. question! How fair was that?

“I don’t know, professor.”

“Clearly being a Slytherin doesn’t mean everything, wouldn’t you said? Twenty points from…”

“May I, Professor?” Freya shouted while standing up. “Freya? Oh, yes, dear. I find everything that comes from your mouth fascinating.”

“Well, Inferi aren’t affect by most of curses, even the Unforgivable Curses. They don’t feel any pain, their actions are guided by the Wizard who creates them and they are already dead. But they are affected by light so curses like Fiendfyre and the Firestorm Charm works against them. Even using a charm like Lumos would be better than the Cruciatus Curse, yet none of these two will keep you alive. Some researchers have purposed another way, to really destroy an Inferius, that would be reverting the process of creating it, yet nobody knows it. They are made by Necromancers and fortunately, the last one died by the hands of Llyod Potter. Nobody knows if You-Know-Who knew how to reserve the process.”

Well, here she had a whole dozen of lies, but nobody knew it. _Lumos_ was useless against Inferi, but if in darker times a light wizard died trying to do it, she wouldn’t have any regret. She, Tom and Gellert knew how to create Inferi. Tom was very alive and well, as was Gellert and herself. Llyod was so useless that he wouldn’t know how to kill Voldemort even if the Dark Lord was suicidal. And she had recently created the process of reverse the ritual and shared it with Tom (that had never been interested in finding it).

“Correct, Freya.  Your housemate has to thank you for correcting her mistake.” He said and returned to the class.

* * *

“I hate him.” Tracey confessed later that evening, after their Charms class.

“Who?” Asked Millicent. “Filtwick?”

“Yes, Blustrode, we hate the half-goblin professor who is kind to everyone and one of the cutest Professors in Hogwarts, walking in that funny way of his. Of course it is him and not a perverted teacher that favors a certain Boy-Who-Lived as if he was god because he is his godson. How couldn’t I see that?” Pansy spoke full of sarcasm. “Sorry.”

Freya walked to the front where Blaise, Draco, Theo and Daphne discussed something. “I am going. Don’t look for me, I will appear to the Breakfast in Monday. Tell the teachers I just started that time and I am with cramps. Explain that I took some pain-relieving potions if someone asks and that I don’t want to be disturbed.” She said to Daphne, but without caring that the others were hearing. “Good weekend.”

“Your meeting with Snape is just at seven, why are you already going?” asked Draco.

“Taking some revenge. See ya’, folks.”

And in the next moment she was gone. The Slytherins were already used with that, Freya wasn’t like them, her life wasn’t the school they knew. There was a new rule in the House – do not ask Freya Hella where is she going or why the door of her room disappears if you don’t want to receive a cold treatment. Besides, the less you know, the less you are involved. They had never felt so relieved to be ignorant as they entered at the Great Hall that night – Sirius Black was shaking, yet, he refused to speak why.

* * *

After an interesting weekly conversation with Snape, where they had discussed the creation of a potion to cure lycanthropy and talked about the current situation of the Dark Forces in Europe, she went to her room.

Early after the DADA class, Tom had sent a message to her. To meet him. She carefully travelled to Farraige de Olc and from there, apparated in Russia.

It was around five a.m. at the country, and Freya transfigured her clothes into a black fur cloak and casted a powerful warming charm on herself. Tom was inside the castle she had apparated on and she did it again to the hall, manipulating the wards as she had done many times. As a consequence of this, the one who cast the wards have been warned.

“Aloysha!” Called a voice in Russian. “Don't go there, my son!” A straw haired child with blue eyes ran into the hall, giggling and stopped as he saw her.

Freya picked the child and sent an assuring wave into her mind. “Hello, little boy.” She said in russian, too. “You must be the great-grandson of that old man, aren't you?”

A man in his thirties invaded the room with his wand pointed to her. “Let my son go.” He ordered and she chose to ignore. “My apologizes, Kynaz Konstantin. I was very rude, not presenting myself. My name is Freya Hella, I guess that the Dark Lord informed you of my coming.”

The blond man appeared to be surprised by that, but most people don't expect an eleven years old as the mate of a Dark Lord in his sixties.

“Would any of you know where he is?” She continued in a pleasant voice. The small child in her eyes giggled as she breathed in his eyes. “Me know!” the boy wrapped his tiny arms around her petite form. Freya laughed to the image. “Could you please take me there, Aloysha?” The kid nodded vigorously and pointed to the huge door in her left. She knew where Tom was, to tell the truth, she could sense his power, yet, she liked the kid.

“I will go with you.” The father said after returning from his gobsmacked state.  “Tell me, my _Kynaz_ , how is your grandfather? The last time I met Alexei was when I was four, if I remember rightly, and all I could think was that he was old.”

“You can call me Konstatin, Lady Nephtys. My grandfather is very well, he loves to have an old friend with him. Aloysha, this is Freya Nephtys, the wife of the Dark Lord.” The prince explained to his son, that seemed a little disappointed with the news of her being married. “She not be priwess?”

“No, Aloysha, I don’t think she wants to be a princess, do you my lady?”

“I’m more than satisfied with all things the Dark Lord provides to me, but thank you for the offer, little man.” She winked to the child. “And I’m not actually married with him.”

“Not mawy? Mawy me!” The boy grinned. “I will have to refuse, young man. We are fiancées, but I’m not in marriageable age yet.” Was her response, opening the door to see Tom.

“Are you already receiving marriage propose of another man?” joked Tom as he wrapped his arms around her, giving the great-grandson of one of his friends to the grandson. All she could think was that he was cute, after all Tom was jealous of a two years old, she could sense it (well, the age gap between her and the prince was smaller than the one between herself and Tom, but that didn’t matter).

“I assure you that I refused the honor. Where is the _czar_?” She gave him a kiss on his hands, the place she could reach in that position. “He is in a meeting with Gorbachev.” Mikhail Gorbachev was a wizard involved into Muggle Politics, apparently, the Muggle URSS that had “killed” the royal family Romanov was collapsing. “They are going to end the URSS on Christmas Day.”

“Interesting.”

“Indeed, his little revenge against the ones that destroyed their power into Muggle World. Yet this wasn’t the reason I called. Kostya, we will be going, would you care to explain the meaning behind a bond mate to your son, yes, thank you.” And after saying that he apparated the two of them.

They were at Japan, she could say because of the wooden structures, elevated slightly off the ground, with tiled roofs that were the buildings.  It was four in the morning there, but it was hotter than Siberia, so she transformed the cloak into an overcoat.  

“Where are we, my lord?”

/Kyoto. The Ketsuga family made its decision. They are following us. Unbreakable Vow. Now, I need to teach them to not make me wait./ Oh. Freya was able to understand her purpose there. Tom enjoyed watching her torture techniques. Yet, she couldn’t help but pout. If the family were to be Tom’s followers, he wouldn’t allow her to kill. Torture without killing became something boring after some years. Mostly if she couldn’t cause any lasting injure. Freya remembered with a smile the time when Voldemort granted her the honor of beheading his enemies – it has been two years since last time, and Tom was almost in love with her after that. The Dark Lord smirked seeing her face. /Soon, my sweetest, soon./

/How do you want it to happen, my lord?/

/Like in Chicago./she nodded. Chicago had been one of her best non-fatal performances. Transfiguring her clothes again to a black cloak that allowed one to identify the snake locket around her forearm. She let the hood cover her face and shadow walked inside the building.

Shadow Walk was an easy ability to perform to the ones who had affinity with Black Magic like her. There was a frail old man sat on the ground. She craved a dagger in his shoulder, making it dance around the flesh. The blade poisoned with sylphs blood, that was a paralyzing venous to everyone except babies.

Freya penetrated in the man's mind. His name was Kaeda and was the younger brother of Lord Ketsuga. The wizard screamed as she sent images to his mind. She wasn't manipulating memories, just showing what could happen if they betrayed Tom. Yet, it was horrible.

The wizard that owned the mind was looking to the body of his beautiful wife. The woman had lost her eyes to her rapist and at the moment, laid on the ground with her stomach open and burning wax ran through the flesh. The _Halla Hayatta_ curse held her alive and awake, however, her voice had been suffocated. Her distorted face twisted into a horror expression. She screamed yet nobody could hear, and cried yet nobody would wipe her tears away. She shacked and shivered, yet was bound to the ground. She couldn't see her eldest son burning alive beside her, just hear him.

Behind the son in fire, a girl was forced to eat, and with an attentive glance you could see that the meat she ate was once the flesh  of her little sister, whose corpse into pieces was thrown into a corner. Kaede cried while watching the scene. Hell, who wouldn’t? He didn’t know that was just a manipulated memory from Freya, and even if he did, he probably would still react to it.  His reaction came in the form of trying to stop it, to save them all. Not much later, he understood that he was trapped inside a body binding curse, so he tried to cancel it. He was good, that one. Most of wizards would remain inoffensive in case like that. However, he wasn’t powerful, if he was maybe he would have noticed the light disproportion of the bodies that she didn’t care to conceal.

She pulled out from the conscience, watching the man as he tried to escape from his own despair. Eight minutes later he blinked and Freya became aware of his return. Letting the poison took over the victim, she sent him to the underground chambers and went to the rooms of his wife. “Okusan? Could you please come here?” She said with the voice of Kaede.  A beautiful old lady opened the door, just to see nothing. If she remembered well from the mind of her husband, the woman was called Ayame and was a great fighter. Freya watched as the wand was revealed from her _Komon_ ’s sleeves.  She cast a _Crucio_  wandlessly and held it for one minute before also sending the woman to the chambers.

Freya hunted the family for almost a family, transporting children, servants and nobles to the underground chambers, always coming with a new type of surprise attack, most of them were based on physical pain, she reserved the mental torture to the most influential. At the end, Katsuo Ketsuga, the family Lord, waited for her.

“Who are you and what do you want?” He asked in a very brave voice. Freya liked the Japan Noblity because of that. They were the perfect merger of Hogwarts Houses. Cunning, traditional and proud like Slytherins. Wise and intelligent like Ravenclaws. Fair and loyal as Hufflepuffs. And brave and strong-willed as Gryffindors. 

He threw an striking spell to her, and she averted with a hand movement. Soon after this, a cutting spell hit their shields, trying to make his way through  the barrier. A Death Curse, that she walked out from and a hurting charm, that she let hit her. She had become unable to feel pain at the age of eight. She sent a Kneeling curse toward the man and then an immobilizing charm..

“Well, I come here to pay a debt.”

And she sent him a bunch of images. His family falling like had happened and then dying, what hasn’t occurred. “Don’t worry, you will join them soon.” She watched as his eyes widened and the darkness involved them.

At the underground chamber, around eighty wizards and witches tried to escape from their despair and pain, and were slowing recuperating themselves as they noticed that their relatives were alive and well. Yet, the ones that suffered the mental torture – the ones who could reorganize the family – were still shivering, thinking all of that was just another round. She smirked to the terrified faces and draw out her two wands.

“ _Expelliarmus.”_ Both scarlet lights from the wands divided themselves into around thirty others, disarming all the wizards and witches with a wand. “ _Crucio.”_ This time the red lights were turned into eighty-three. Freya nodded to Tom, still holding the curse, when he wrapped his arms around her neck kissing the skin. The witch purred in satisfaction. She knew he had watched her from the shadows and also enjoyed it, yet, it was assuring to have a confirmation.

/How much do you want me to hold it?/ The child asked, as woman and man screamed in pain on the background. Voldemort rolled his eyes to stop a man from hugging his son. There were people in many positions there. Most of them had given up and were laying on the floor. Some of them had surrendered but were still kneeling or sitting.  Ayame was one of these. There were three that were on their feet. Kasumi, a woman in her thirties, daughter of the Lord Ketsuga. Yuuka, the widow of the former Lord Tsuitachishi and the mother of the current one. And the own Lord.

“ _Crucio_.” She said again, making the three of them fall. She didn’t really hate anyone now (Potter, Dumbledore and Black she did, but they weren’t there), and although of what people believed, it wasn’t needed to hate someone to cast the Cruciatus Curse. You had to have the strength to torture, that's all. They had disrespected Voldemort and that was enough to her.

/Fifteen minutes will do it./ He whispered, watching the people on his feet. She ended the curse and hid her wands. She smoothed the chin of the elder family lord.

“The Dark Lord has honored you offering the chance to be in the winning side. And yet you disregarded it. As followers you are my responsibility. And it’s my duty to inform you that the Dark Lord decisions are unquestionable. Any negative comment will be regarded as dishonorable. Don’t be fooled, being in the winning has its advantages but also obligations. You will welcome us to your home this weekend, when we will explain the terms of the Mark. Permission to recover wounded granted. Good night.”

She walked with Voldemort to the gardens. The Dark Lord transfigured a tree into a very small castle and she transfigured one of her stones to sand grains to be transformed into furniture, furnishing the ten roomed house. The two of them were very used to that routine. Every time they went to travels like that they used that process (to tell the truth that was the only reason Freya had walked out from Farraige de Olc in ten years, a fact broken to her travel to Hogwarts).

Voldemort caressed her ankles, crawling with her onto the bed. She was also used to that, the wizard enjoyed spending the night besides her after her performances. When she was little, she felt horrible for tainting the Dark Lord with the blood of her victims, but after some years she understood he just loved that. He attached an anklet into onto her ankle. She smiled to that, the anklet was made of silver, with diamonds on it and an emerald pendant laid on her foot. He kissed her.

/You were amazing this night./ He whispered, hugging her. They sat on the mattress, Tom with his arms around her, his back rested on the headboard. She was between his legs, her head rested on his chest. /I need the Stone./ He sighed. Freya raised an eyebrow to that

/So…The Dark Lord has some morals? It’s that the problem? You know that I don’t care, Tom. The end will be the same, anyway. Someday, maybe, we will be so old that we won’t care even if we lost one or two centuries, have you already thought about that?/

/Yes, and we will be the rulers. I feel so young saying this./The wizard laughed. /Ten years ago, being the Ruler of the Wizarding World was a great goal, a dream that I would realize.  Now, it looks so easy. It’s almost like I had just to follow a recipe to a potion that no one has brewed yet. It hasn’t be done yet, but is just too simple. Sometimes, I’ve to remind myself that I’m still not the Emperor./

/I also have. To me, you are already the ruler. It’s something that has already occurred, and now we just need to inform the Light. We go around informing the people that they are on our side, not recruiting. It’s a party that the last one to be invited is Dumbledore./

Voldemort laughed more with that. Freya smiled. It was weird putting that in words. Both of them knew what the other thought, but it was so awkward – making preparations for a war already won. Many loyalties have changed across these years, and nobody except them knew that. When she was a little child she thought that they were being fooled but now she understood that everything was resumed to that. Simple.

Hugging each other, witch and wizard fell in Morpheus’ reign, lying on a grain of sand transfigured in a large bed, a tree transformed in a house around them, after torturing a whole family. Simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here some dictionary if you want to know:  
> Farraige de Olc: Sea of Evil, Irish  
> Kochi: Child Blood, Japanese  
> Hiruko: The child of Izanagi and Izanami that was drowned at the sea (has a connection with Ebisu), Japanese  
> Kuki: Nine oni, Japanese  
> Kamo: Kamo no Tadayuki and Kamo no Yasunori were onmyōji, the second taught Abe no Seimei, Japanese  
> Ketsuga: Blood Fang, Japanese  
> Hikari: Light (a name), Japanese  
> Seimei: Abe no Seimei was an onmyōji, his mother was a kitsune that entrusted him to Kamo no Tadayuki, in order to he remain as a human, Japanese. Ironically, in this story the Kamo family became Dark and Seimei is still in the Light Side.  
> Anaba: Stolen, Chewa  
> Zen: Goodness, Japanese  
> Kushi: a Japanese comb  
> Hala Hayatta: Still life, Turkish  
> Yes, in my story the Romanov family wasn't killed.


	6. Winter Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1991 ends here.  
> WARNING: Scenes with intense violence. You have been warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another chapter. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Any familiar situations belong to her books. Also in some chapters I use direct excerpts from Harry Potter books, I'll write at the beginning of the chapters when this happens.
> 
> I don't have a beta.

 

> _"In heaven, all the interesting people are missing."_
> 
> _\- Friedrich Nietzsche_
> 
>  

October 20th, 1991 – Japan

The weekend has been very pleasant to a certain Dark Lord’s mate, but now, this same witch was dreading the last hours of the day. The sun was hiding behind the mountains and she grunted while walking alone in the garden.  They would be having dinner with the Ketsuga family, after Tom finished commanding them. She knew what he wanted, her Lord had told her Saturday night.  He was in a meeting with Katsuo-san (she refused to call him by his surname, that wouldn’t make sense in a house full of them) since noon and she was getting bored. Freya had found a dojo to train some magic, yet after two hours transfiguring dummies into corpses to then hit them with spells, it became annoying. The witch ended up burning the whole dojo just to rebuild it and went away. It has passed three hours since that.

The Villa had a great library, however, the only thing she hasn’t read about there was Muggle Folklore texts. She had met with Kasumi, the woman who tried to resist her Crucio Friday and they have talked about the differences between Tennyos, Nymphs and Veelas (a lot) – something weird to discuss with somebody that have just tortured you.

After that, she spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the house, ignoring the apprehensive looks that the residents shot her. It was her last hours there, but not her last hours with  Ketsuga family, Voldemort has made sure to bring some of his followers to Britain, and this time, it would include a transfer from Mahoutokoro to Hogwarts.

Finally, Tom called her. They were all sat onto the ground. Freya raised an eyebrow to her mate, it was their first time eating in a Kaiseki in the house.  Yuuka and her sons, Katsuo, Shiroiha, Tsubasa and Kaede sat on his left. Their sister, Yorihana and her sisters-in-law, Haruka, Kasumi and Ayame, sat on the right, with an empty seat to her beside Voldemort. Freya gave them a small bow and smiled to Yuuka. It was evident that she was the younger at the room, and with a great age gap – Kasumi, the younger, had just turned sixty-three, two years younger than Tom and Yuuka, the older, was a hundred and one.

She gave a small nod to Tom while the Japanese wizards thanked their food and tasted the sakizuke, made of Hamachi and Beluga Roe. She gave a small sip of Kodama Umeshu Plum Wine, listening to the final agreements of them. The hassun was made of tuna sushi and the Mukozuke, sashimi. In the end, Voldemort had acquired everything that he wanted and Katsuo-san held the Dark Mark in his body, as did his first son and heir, Ichirou-san.

They would sent the twin couple of Ichirou, the third granddaughter of Shiroiha and the first grandson of Kaede to her. All of them had her age. Two girls and two boys, to be trained to be her most loyal followers. She acknowledged the fact with a smile and a assuring tone. All of them knew that their grandchildren – and great-grandchildren to Yuuka-san – would grow up to be killers, in the hands of the Mate of the Dark Lord, that everybody except herself saw as the Dark Lady. However, they’d be powerful, or at least, skillful. Nobody that could defeat their Lord of House, a famous dueler himself, wouldn’t be able to train the most fearful wizards. A small comfort to the people who would abandon their offspring into a country. The Takiawse was served after that, with deer meat and vegetables.

They passed down to planning. Voldemort explained their role to the election of Hiruko Kuroshi as the President of the East Asian Federation of Magic (that ruled over China, Japan, Korea, Mongolia, Taiwan and Vietnam), Kochi Kosashin was their second chose if Hiruko-san failed. The Futamono was a soup with mushrooms, dried scallops, gingseng and sea cucumber.

The dinner continued like this. They would talk about pleasantries such as murder, politics and creatures. It was amusing to watch them. Yuuka-san was a small and wrinkled old lady with fierce eyes and silver hair. Katsuo was a sturdy man with gray hair and prideful eyes, while his wife Haruka was the manifestation of gentleness. Shiroiha was  the complete opposite of his brother, slender and with sharp eyes, he had black hair and looked younger than his seventy-eight years, his wife, rumored to be a great feminist, had died thirty-four years ago. Tsubasa was the eldest brother in appearance, and although he looked fragile, he was a renowned Potions Master, his wife Kasumi was almost plain, yet there was strength in her. Kaede was fat when compared to his brothers, and Ayame, aristocratic. Yorihana looked barely fifty, yet, she was seventy.

They’d probably thought her to be amusing, too, if she hadn’t almost killed them, and caused some great mental damage. It was possible to see Katsuo and Kaede flinch every time they saw her, and Voldemort grinned every time they did that. Yet, they still here respectful towards her and Katsuo even discussed some of his plans to the improvement to the dojo with her. Freya smiled to them and answered their questions, even though she didn’t have to. The younger witch was pleased to know that Tsubasa had a fierce nature behind that body, while discussing potions. It took almost an hour to her be able to win a debate about the using of Kitsune fur in Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem.

“He is great.” She told Tom with a wink. “Good as Severus. You should include him in your potions making section.” Voldemort stared her and she nodded. The English Witch wasn’t lying or joking. “If my wife thinks that you deserve the role, I won’t care to test you with my own time. You are welcome to join us in Death Eaters ranks as was your brother.”

“It’s a great honor, my lord.”

When the midnight came, though, Freya bid all of them farewell and apparated into _Farraige de Olc_.

* * *

December 15th, 1991 – Scotland

Freya had decided to steal the Stone. Her Lord had returned from Durmstang the day before that and had been rather upset with Igor's small talk. The Wizard ended up casting a cruciatus on the Death Eater but the damage was done.

The Holidays would start in three days and Freya would return to Ireland. There was no use in remaining in Hogwarts as most of the students would be gone. Besides, it was the first time that she would be able to attend the final Samhain festivities held by Death Eaters. There were also Yule.

She opened the Third Floor dorm with a intent spell. It was two in the morning and she wore air-existence spells, besides sounding prove ones, so nobody would have noticed if she used words, but it was too much work. She would have to cause the less damage to the obstacles, though. If someone entered into the floor, they would notice the stealing.

Freya casted an Imperio in Fluffy, making the Cerebrus docile towards her and violent to anyone else and passed to the second “challenge”. The Devil's Snare was easy. Just a little of levitation.

She didn't bother to try to flight among the keys, it'd be annoying. Instead, she just used and strong summoning charm. The next challenge was evidently a McGonagall's work. She could have ended the spellwork, yet, she preferred to transfigure her stones into pieces and ending the game in a six bids move. Then, she casted a Reparo.

The Imperio worked against the trolls as well and she stared to Snape's challenge. Easy, even without the puzzle it was easy to recognize the potions. She drowned herself with potion in the smallest bottle.

She stared at the Mirror of Erised. The witch was slightly curious to know what she would see, but she could take a guess.

Freya blinked to what she already expected. At the reflection, she could see a young and wise Voldemort sat in a throne of Darkness. He was happy and pleased. From behind him, she stalked up, a little older and taller, her body well-developed. Lord Voldemort took her hand and smiled loving to her.

 _I need the stone to that._ She though and looked to Tom as he dropped something in her robes. She waved to the love of her life and went away. It was almost ridiculous, Freya could not believe Nicholas Flamel had agreed to that, or that Perenelle had allowed. They would mostly die now, but maybe not so soon, she didn’t know how much Elixir they had. But that didn’t matter anymore.

She had the stone.

* * *

 

It was Winter Solstice. Today, the Malfoys would hold a feast in the Dark Lord’s name, and that would be the first time she would make a public appearance into the Death Eater’s ranks. Her Lord would come, too.  The end of the Samhain festival. Today, she would see Voldemort again, after seven days. She would finally show him the Stone, that she was already using to brew the _Perquam Significans_ Potion. The Unicorn Blood, the amaranths, the Banshee flesh and the Kelpie hair were easy to find. This wasn’t the Elixir of Life, that she planned to join in the current core (Unicorn Blood) of her silphium wand. Yet, this would take some time, because she would just do it after drink the Elixir herself, and Tom had commanded her to do it when she turned twenty-two, and not before that. Ten years to wait.

She stabilized the potion waving her wand towards it and called Chronos.  Her gown was a very simple strapless dark gown made of Aglaophotis muslin – something very ironic, as the herb was famous to call dark forces.  Freya pulled her hair into a braided bun and a band made of silver and emeralds, a Samhain present that Voldemort had sent to her. The house elf finished arranging her hair with a sight and she stood up.  Tightening her two wand holster into her legs (that could be accessed by an entry on her dress) and transfiguring a set of Goblin-made daggers, their blades poisoned with Basilisk, Manticore and Runespoor venom.

Freya heard the sound of her Lord’s steps. Voldemort smiled to her as he held her hand, kissing it and then her neck. “My dear child. Today is your first festival of the Dark Rise.” She purred at that. “I have the stone, my lord.” Tom laughed at that pleased. Well, pleased wasn’t the exact expression. He sent to her waves of excitement and approval, with a glint of something so pure and dark that she couldn’t name. “Excellent.” He pushed her to a loveseat, and then sat beside her, taking her body in his arms.

His breath caressed her nape, and his fingers smoothed her throat while he gave her hair small kisses. Freya was used to it and allowed the coldness of his body break into her own skin. “I took the freedom to start brewing it.”

At that comment, the Dark Lord burst into laughter and kissed her lips. Freya felt the tongue hit her lips, but when she noticed that it was asking entrance, she opened her lips, gasping as it danced through her mouth. She had never done it, their kisses had been chaste until that moment. The witch set her head into the seat arms, pulling her arms into his back as Tom grabbed her hair. She opened her eyes to gaze the crimson ones that watched her and gave a small moan as the wizard continued. Everything was alright, Voldemort appreciated her work that much and she couldn’t ask for more. The witch and wizard became a mixture of scents - death and immortality - of fabrics and colors, of deadly weapons and poison, of promises and lies, red and green, adoration and lust.

Freya could hear his childhood, the time when he was a bullied boy, that knew nothing of the Wizarding World and yet, dreamed of being different of everyone. She smiled as fourteen-fifteen years old Tom watched men dying on the Winter of The Blitz. Freya heard the same boy promise that he would never be that soldier, dying and being forgotten by the whole world. She heard him deciding that he’d never be a poverty victim. As he vowed that he would never be someone’s war victim – neither Hitler nor Grindelwald would be responsible for the death of Salazar Slytherin’s heir. He would run his own wars, and come out victorious of all of them.

Tom Riddle watched a childhood he knew. The small two years girl throwing knifes into moving targets, such as birds. He watched himself teaching the unforgivables to a four years girl. He listened the pain scream that a five years witch gave as she burned herself and the whole Tower that surrounded her, just to summon a storm in the same Tower to end the fire. He smiled as she electrocuted a whole army sending a wave of water tempered with electric energy, she was eight that time. He watched as the witch looked to the sea, alone in her island, waiting for him. As she ran with a pride of chimaeras, in her own animagus form of a manticore.  He laughed as she fought with another manticore and won. Freya helping an unicorn give birth, her again alone in her mare form, watching. She practicing parselmagic and researching about Inferi. The witch writing an essay about black holes that nobody would ever read. She had never starved, never felt helpless, yet, she had lived more than anyone.

In ten years, she would have physically matured enough to become ageless. In five months, he would have his youth returned. She wasn’t his follower, she was a part of himself, his mate. A Horcrux that had never received a piece of soul. Voldemort looked to the middle finger in his left hand, where laid a ring and took it off. He diminished the rim and slipped it on Freya’s left ring-finger. Her eyes widened as she saw the ring.

“No, I can’t.”

“You must. Follow my orders.” He said and took her hand, with the Marvolo Gaunt’s Ring there. They apparated away.

* * *

The Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire was a handsome small palace with elaborated gardens and fountains. A proud building to a prideful family. In the stone walls of the entrance hall were displayed several portraits with pale faces. The Death Eaters had already arrived, and none of them were there, except Lucius and his family.

Freya smiled to Draco, that had dropped his mask for two minutes to gasp at them. She hadn't expected the Death Eaters' children to be there, yet, that was just the feast. Maybe they weren't and Draco was just allowed to greet the visitors. However, if that was the case, she was almost sure that the others would end up appearing into Draco's chambers until next hour.

“My Lord.” The blond with long hair kissed Voldemort's robes and bowed to her. She looked up to Tom, asking a confirmation before declaring: “Stand up, Lucius. Our Lord is very pleased with this feast.”

“My Lady.” The older Malfoy had never met the witch but he could see everywhere the signs that she was his Lord's mate. Young, as the rumors told, and the greatest piece of beauty that he had already seen, as Severus had told him. He knew she was in Hogwarts, but Severus had told just these two things to him. The Malfoy didn't know her name. “I hope that you have been enjoying Hogwarts.”

“As much the teaching lacks, the company of your son and his housemates becomes more and more satisfactory. And please, call me lady Freya.” She greeted Narcissa, the witch in her mid-thirties wore an dark blue long-dress, her silver-blonde hair arranged with amethysts. The former Black bowed to her and they measured each other.

“Draco.” She smirked to the young wizard. “I guess you will need to explain to someone who I am.”

“If you wish so, my lady Freya.”

She nodded and shadow walked with Tom to his throne at the Main Hall. Two hundred of Death Eaters were there. The witch, hidden by the Darkness stood behind her Lord. Bellatrix Lestrange talked with her husband and her brother-in-law. Severus had approached the Malfoys as soon as they entered. Parkison and Greengrass discussed something. Lorrena Zabini was a widow once again, but looked very lively flirting with Nikolai, Princess Anastasia's grandson. Igor Karkoff had come and was sat beside a Iceland Representative. Ketsuuga Ichirou had arrived as did Hiruko Akira and Kochi Aoi. Julius Carlton, Herakles Asthnone, Zia Fairwood and Faith Doomstraig had come from USA. Mèlanie and Chér Cyr and Niall Sarrow from Canada. Otto Hetilberg and Rebecca Strungborough from Germany. Charlotte Desgagners, Albert Le Moyen, Henri Quimine and Raissa Sivadier from France. Henrique Gonçalves, Antonio de Magalhães and Isabella Correntes from Latina America. Shahryar al-Rashid, Dunyazad Zaman and Cassim Rupthaka from West Asia. Guillermo and Fernando Taglionero from Italy, Vasilk Gjak, Bratislav Tama and Dalibor Mēc from the Balcans. There were many others that she didn't know the name.

“It's with great pleasure that I present you my fiancée, Freya Hella Nephtys.” Freya walked from the shadows, watching the shocked looks from most of Death Eaters and amusement from the eyes of Severus and Bella. She snorted to the others as she sat on the arm of Voldemort's throne. Fernir Greyback gave a howl of recognition and Vlad von Dunkleheitimmer curved his arms. Lilith Mihnea, the lady of  succubi, bowed deeply. That was weird.

She motioned to the figure stand, the gorgeous female being locked her eyes into hers. So, that was the greatest succubus of all. Freya couldn’t understand how someone would think she could be one of them, their bodies were much more matured than hers would ever be, and the witch would never use that lack of clothes. She had a cherry-red hair and blood-red lips, her eyes darker than everything. Her fierce eyes said that she wouldn’t accept anything that she didn’t want. When she was dismissed, she revealed her serpentine tail. All the men and most of the women followed the figure with their eyes, and Freya was pleased to notice that the Tom hasn’t. The same could be said of Lord Voldemort as an Incubus collected his lady.

While dinning, most of the members couldn’t eat even the half of their food, the eagerness to the soon-to-happen events just growing. The end of Samhain would always be executed by the darkest creatures.  Voldemort smirked with the prospect of torture. Freya was around him, not looking too much to the dinner. She wasn’t there for that. The witch had come to watch the events that would took place at _Haeyali_.

Later that night, the dark lady curled herself around her mate, watching the show. A vampire called Mihnea surrounded a pile of deformed flesh, that were just discarded by the werewolves.  A man cried as his arms hung in another corner, his legs had been torn out. _Halla Hayatta._ The gift to all  tormentors, everyone was alive there, yet, the screams had started boring Tom an hour ago and were choked. Some Death Eaters had felt too nauseated to stay, but most was still there. Bellatrix giggled as the treacherous incubus crawled on the floor, his former lady, Lilith, ignored the pathetic display.

Mihnea bit the creature, enjoying the blood of the powerful and enticing being. Fernir dropped the carcass of what had been a muggle child. Freya didn’t really enjoy all of that, it was useless. Killing betrayers could be done with the killing curse. The Muggles have a purpose, of course. Voldemort had commanded the restart of raids into unknown muggle villages nine months ago. In three years, when they’d rise to the Magical Community, he planned to reveal half of the villages to the press (that would not be plagued by decomposition with a spell). The other half was being used to build an Inferi army. Besides that reasons, they had an army with one million and a half blood-thirsty creatures, it was necessary to placate them.

The witch also knew the Dark Lord relished the entertainment, but it wasn’t because of the prospect of causing pain. He liked to observe the loyalty of his servants towards him, betraying their own race to him. He liked to know that he was feared. He liked to hold the power to decide the future. He liked to watch of them and be aware that he could kill someone with just an expression, just is eyes. He loved the ultimate form of control. He loved to be great. And Freya loved to know that all of that was truth.

The curse was lifted and in one second they had a great mass of murder. A true genocide. That one was to impress and terrorize the media. The Muggles were separated from the betrayers. The latter that had not much long ago, though that they were deceiving everyone, that they would survive. The ones who though for a moment that all of that, was the work of fools.

They hadn’t time to change their misconception.

She didn’t find all of that juicy as most of Tom’s servants did. But she wasn’t a servant either, she was a follower. Yet, Freya found that watching them compensated the show she didn’t really appreciate. They were fools, all of them. Prideful fools, self-serving fools, arrogant fools, fools that were prejudiced, ignorant, cruel, violent, clever, ambitious, determinate, old-fools, young-fools. She was a fool, even Tom was one. They lived to a goal, they lived to conquest, they lived and hoped to life forever. They would never understand the beauty of laying onto the ground and just watching. They would work for a goal and maybe someday, achieve it, but they would fatally lose it. They would always pursue happiness, life and knowledge. Why happiness? Freya would never understand why someone would want to be happy, why feeling pain and saddens was so terrible. She couldn’t see why all that servants pursued life, if one day they would die. She couldn’t she why Tom had to flight of death, he would life forever? It must be impossible, mustn’t be? The world would have to end someday, the universe too. Would she live to see if that would happen? Or she would chose to die before? It scarred her a little. She could end up really living forever, and then? What would she do if her desire was death? Why knowledge? Someday, their brain would die, the memory of the time someone maintained its pride would also. Why people tried so hard? Because if they didn’t, all they could do was die? So why not die?

Tom touched her shoulder, and she winced. What had happened?

/Are you alright, my dear? You don’t seem to be paying much…attention./ He spoke in a low voice, dark and calm.

“Why can’t we die?” She asked, absent-mindedly. Voldemort pressed his hands in her body, surprised by the question. /My dear?/

She looked up to him, staring that blood-red eyes. /Why do people want to live so much? What’s the use? I mean…What’s the problem with death? When someone sacrifices his life to other, why people value this one so much? It’s death./

/Child…/

/My lord. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said nothing./

/Explain. The beginning of your order of thoughts./

/As you wish. Look at Malfoy. He is nauseated, but he hides it behind that cold mask of him. Why? Why someone sticks to his pride so much? The Carrows are similar, they want to be valued. Why would somebody want that? Dolohov is a beautiful man in a way, but so much self-confidence. Can’t he see that he will end up dead as everyone. Why Rookwood betray everyday something that he must be very comfortable with? What made Avery join you and his son to follow him? Crouch Junior intrigues me, his father has a good position, so why follow beliefs that someone is greater, even if it’s true? Bellatrix was forced marry her handsome husband that she doesn’t like, however, why she tries so hard hide that she adores you much more than she should? Crabbe and Goyle are obligated to be servants of Malfoy because of an Unbreakable Vow, but why not break it? One day they’ll end up dying because of it anyway. Rowle is so reckless, why everyone seems to care? Karkoff is a trying to stay alive, so useless, why does he fear death? Nott grieves the death of his wife and can’t remember that he still has a son, what is the reason for that? Rodolphus and Rabastan so loyal, so ready to act on their beliefs, why can’t the open? Travers, why some of your servants so prejudiced by blood-purity? Yaxley is an ambitious fool, can’t he see it? Fernir, how could he accept the wolf inside him, why did he try to do it? Severus, regretting the death of someone who never died, why would he do it? Lilith, ignoring the attention she receives, ignoring the person who a few minutes ago she had to call lover. Mihnea, tasting a blood the human inside him refuses. Vlad, the ancient that just wishes to die, and yet doesn’t do it.  Can’t you see all our foreign visitors, why do they follow something they don’t wish to see? Why Dumbledore condemned the love of his life? Why do people belive that love, happiness and life exist, tantalizing themselves with it? It doesn’t matter how much pain all of them inflict in someone, they are their own greatest tormentors. And will never taunt someone more than they do with themselves./

/And me, my dear child? What do you think about me?/

/Don’t you fear, my lord? Don’t you fear that someday, somewhere, you will be the only thing to exist? To know? To remember? Or does my lord hope that someone will destroy your Horcruxes, do you want that?/

Tom sighed, the ceremony long ago forgotten by the two of them. It wasn’t the first time that Freya got in that mood – hell, it wasn’t the twentieth time. When she was around five, when he had started using her abilities more often, it was a weekly occurrence. After her seventh birthday, it became more rare, but not unusual. She would read everyone’s minds, and write a summary to one’s personality. It was useful but very tiring to anyone near, too. Voldemort had ordered her to stop at the beginning of it, but later he had seen how educative it was. He didn’t need to enter in his servants’ minds after those times, and she would always appoint spies if there was one unknown.

The servants had noticed that, but they hadn’t received any orders, so they continued. They couldn’t hear what they saying. It was too low, and too snake-like. Parseltongue. The girl spoke the snakes language?

/I do not fear, child./ He said with anger.

/You fear, my lord./ She closed her eyes, expecting a slap. Or a mental torture, to be more discrete. But the anger had gone away.  The Dark Lord was sat there, expecting her response, with a fondness that she couldn’t comprehend. Not this time. /Everybody does. Yet, you are the only one that truly allows yourself to fear your death, because you won’t face it. And you aren’t scared to life. It’s great, greater than everyone else. And because of that, I am unable to understand./

To the surprise of everyone else, the Dark Lord laughed. A laugh without care, bright with an innocence he didn’t possess. Voldemort smoothed her locks, a smile playing in his lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. /You are right, my chi…my dear one. My lady. You are also their lady, my Freya. You have matured so much while in Hogwarts, and I doubt that this is the studies influence. You became an adult at the age of one, but now, you are becoming ancient. This isn’t our time anymore. Our time lays in past, and will lay in future. So wise. So loyal. So beautiful./

“A hundred of souls of traitors, my lord. And a thousand of innocent souls. The Dark shall rise, and last until the magic lasts.” Recited a succubus named Naamah, one of Lilith’s sisters. As Freya could understand, this one was a seer. Voldemort nodded to that and they looked up to where the first traces of sun could be seen, the sky was getting lighter.

“As the day start, we let the last light bright.” He declared and burned the one hundred corpses in a black fire without smoke. The corpses of the muggles had been transported to their villages. They apparated as the _Haeyali Island_ burned into black flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small curiosities to anyone who wants to read.  
> Samhain, a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the "darker half" of the year, it's celebrated between 31 October and 1 November, or Autumn E quinox and Winter Solscite. I have already some fanfictions with this festival and decided to include it.  
> Vlad and Mihnea, Vlad the Impaler was the figure who inspired Bram Stoker's Dracula. Mihnea the Evil was his son. In my fanfic they had no relation (Vlad isn't Dracula, too) but Vlad turned him in a vampire.  
> Succubus and incubus, succubus are female demons that seduce man, incubus are their male counterpart. If you didn't know this, now you do.  
> Lilith, according to the Alphabet of Ben Sira, Lilith is Adam's first wife, that left him after refusing to become surbivient to him. Lilith, Agrat bat Mahlat, Eishelth Zenunim and Naamah are the four consorts of Samael.  
> Kaiseki, it's a traditional multi-course Japanese dinner, compounded by Sakizuke, Hassun, Mukōzuke, Takiawase, Futamono, Yakimono, Su-zakana, Hiyashi-bachi, Naka-choko, Shiizakana, Gohan, Kō no mono, Tome-wan, Mizumono.  
> Mahoutokoro, is the Japanese school of Magic, Mahou (魔法) means magic and witchcraft, while Tokoro (所), place, spot. With Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Koldovstoretz (Russia), Uagadou (Africa), Salem Witches' Institute (USA) are the only named Wizarding Schools of magic. There are another four (one being in Brazil). It's unknown if there are more.  
> East Asian Federation of Magic, created by me. Magical Governments don't necessarily are the same of the Muggle. As can be seen with Russia still being called this, while in 1991 the area was called URSS. The East Asian Federation of Magic is like the Ministry of Magic, but involves all East Asia (current People's Republic of China, Hong Kong, Macau, Japan, North Korea, South Korea, Mongolia, Republic of China) and has the highest magic population.  
> Haeyali Island, an island in the middle of Pacific, created by me. It's Lord Voldemort property, acquired in 1968.


	7. An average day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything written in title with the addition of Tom's transformation. A little faster? No, I don't think so. The first three years will be like this. Please, notice the irony in the title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I have tests now so I'm a little busy, but in a week I must be able to post something new. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Any familiar situations belong to her books. Also in some chapters I use direct excerpts from Harry Potter books, I'll write at the beginning of the chapters when this happens.
> 
> I don't have a beta.

 

> _“Seth gave her that: a private space to believe in the illusion of normalcy.”_
> 
> _\- Melissa Marr_

January 6th, 1992 - Scotland

After the holidays, the Slytherin's table would appear in its usual mood to anyone, except to its own members. Draco would have never been able to hold the secret and soon every snake had a slightly idea of Freya’s role on the upcoming war. Some, like the first years, had a very rough idea. Even Lily Moon did, and she was part of the group that had their little world. Pansy didn’t seem to care, but that was just a facade. Tracey was stealing glances to her and Millicent didn’t try to stop staring. Daphne had a impassive mask, as did Draco. Blaise had a similar behavior to Pansy and Theo was reading, choosing to stay away from politics. Vincent and Gregory probably couldn’t think enough to draw any conclusion. Lily Moon was still on her own world, but sometimes she woke up to stare at her.

“So, you discovered Tom’s job.” Freya mocked while tasting her _apfelstrudel_. Oh, the witch had forgotten how much she loved it.

“Yeah, Drake saw it.” Blaise spoke, as if it was nothing.

“Well, you’d discovered soon or later. Guess it end up being sooner than I expected. But what can I do? Great people never hide too much.”

“You support him…” tried Tracey.

“Entirely. You’re welcome to visit us whenever you want. He loves when people join us.” She smiled, almost looking pleasant. That moment, the Great Hall went silent. Dumbledore had ended his speech and for just a moment, Freya thought that it was her fault. It was, to tell the truth, but much more indirectly than she had wondered. For the first time in three hundred years, Hogwarts had transferred students.

Freya waved to the Asians that stood near the doors. Two girls and two boys. Brothers and cousins. Ketsuga Amaterasu and Ketsuga Kagewa, with the kanji to _heaven_ and _shine_ to the girl and the symbols to _shadow_ and _ring_ to the wizard. Ichirou’s twins. The witch had a small face with big dark eyes and a wavy chestnut hair. Her twin had a lighter hair and a thinner nose, almost aquiline, besides that they were identic.

Himitsu Yuuki was a beautiful albino, her grey eyes and silver hair attracted the whole hall attention. Her mother had married a wizard born from a Yuki-ona, and wasn’t disowned because the same man come from a very influential family. Inoue Masumi, her third-grade cousin, had the darker skin of all of them, his neck-length ink hair pulled into a band.  She had never met them, but they knew who she was.

“Do you know them?” asked Daphne.

“Yes, they are the offspring of the Ketsuga family. You’ll see.” She answered, the blonde girl nodded, as an aristocrat she had already heard the name, although nothing much clearer. Usually, the aristocrats didn’t open to other country societies.

“Who are them?” Blaise asked, holding less knowledge in politics.

“The Most Ancient and Noble House of Ketsuga is a Japanese family of Dark Wizards. That is all I, and most british wizards that care, know.” Draco explained.

“He has business with them. Now you know a little more.”

Freya smiled as Masumi were sorted into Gryffindor, something she had confidence that would happen. The boy was from a family of swordmen, afterall. Yet, he sat with her at the Slytherin Table. Dumbledore stopped winked at that.

“Mr.Inoue, you must sit with your housemates in the Gryffindor table. Can you see it?” The Headmaster said, in a childlike tone. The wizard rolled his eyes and answered in a husky voice, that seemed to be rarely used. “Of course, _Dumbledore-sensei_.” Freya changed a look with the wizard, both grinning with the use of the honorific. “However I’ve read the rules and none of them states that I’m obligated to sit in the table of my house. As a transfer student, I prefer to sit with someone I already know. I am almost sure that my cousins will also opt this alternative, whatever house they are placed in, I apologize if it goes against your customs and ask you to understand.” He said and then shut up and long-beard obliged to agree.”

Yuuki went to Ravenclaw, not much surprise there. The house of creativity, acceptance and originality would always fit her, Freya could she her mindset. A colorful snowy world worked in her mind, when the light affected her vision in the real world. A spell worked on her Nystagmus, yet, Freya knew she was affected by light and her eyes were always dancing.

Amaterasu went to Hufflepuff and Kagewa to Slytherin. Some deception there, Freya had hoped to a contrast with their names but it wasn’t that surprising. Like in most patriarch families, the male would be a leader that valued power and tradition and the female, motherly, loyal, patient and fair. They all sat with her.

 

* * *

March 24st, 1992 - Scotland

Yesterday the Gryffindor x Hufflepuff Quidditch match had happened. The Lions had won. Yet, that Sunday, nobody was really talking about it. Freya had just come from the Grey Tower, after checking the _Perquam Significans_ Potion. One month more. Then she had shadow walked to the Turris Medius Tower.

The second floor of the tower was full of students of every house. The high cellars reflected the cloudy sky of the day, from the dark stone walls hung several silk pieces of all shades. The ornate arches of the gigantic room were supported by thin columns. Onto the marble floor, persian tapestries of vibrant colors laid. Around a thousand of colorful cushions were scattered on the ground. There were some devans and loveseats in the same fashion, printed velvet lined. It was a medieval tower invaded by gypsies and bohemians. They had even enchanted the windows to look like morrocan.

Sat on the floor where around two hundred students. Tonks waved to her as she entered, the seven year's hair changing into a shocking pink color, the weasley twins sat in front of her and they laughed. The Ketsugas had adapted themselves very well.  Well, Yuuki and Masumi weren't the talkative kind, but they had become sort of used. Inoue-san, as most of Hogwarts' students called him after hearing his cousins, was showing his skills in kenjutsu while the rest watched. Himitsu-san was with Lily and Luna althought none of them were really talking with the others. Luna observed the students with a shrewd eyes that could be confused with a dreamy gaze. Yuuki had her eyes closed and her hands dirty with ink, on the trestle, a painting of a white phoenix with plum trees behind it. Lily watched the other two and caressed her black cat. “Mort, Moon, Snow. Or Moon, Passion and Secret?” She said to the three girls, that wore matched expressions.

Amaterasu-chan had become popular among the Slytherins, for her loyalty to her family traditions and her fairness. Who would have thought that a Hufflepuff would be accepted in the snakes? Kagewa-kun had become an idol to his sister's classmates, being worshipped as a true leader and swore fidelity towards her. The students talked cheerfully, or played instruments, or read books and magazines, or danced while listening their Discmans. Nobody talked about winning, not because of something depressing, but because of the unfairness of that. After a fuss made by Potter (that was part of the Gryffindor team since the start of the Second Term), Heidi Macavoy was cast out from the team, Cedric was hit by a bludger. The Lions were almost ashamed because of that. She smiled to the badgers.

However, Freya couldn’t think about it at all. Dumbledore was getting suspicious, it was surprising that he had taken so long actually. Merlin, she had reunited all the houses, and after that the Philosopher’s Stone was stolen – if anyone didn’t became a little more wary, well, this person wouldn’t be the fool leading the light, a fool, but still leading. He had called her to his office.

She greeted Daphne with a small movement with her head, indicating to the blonde to follow her. The Turris Tower had three adjacent chambers, interconnected by the Main Chamber. There was the music chamber, where the dancing and playing students were, the library, were most of them studied and read, and the training room, where they practiced any kind of magic or muggle fighting techniques. The arches connected the rooms. Since when the abandoned tower had become their hiding place, around November, they had an unspoken agreement – if someone entered in the Tower, then this one would be welcome. If this didn’t happened, the person had no reason to know about their little paradise. They hadn’t any purpose (or they though that they didn’t had), any name, and just one rule – don’t do anything that Freya Hella disapproves.

As she walked on others rooms, the students waved, smiled, nodded or even bowed. The witch conjured a staircase to the roof. Daphne was behind her, Draco on the blonde side. Hermione started to walk in her direction, but seeing her companies, the girl stopped. It was an understanding that while Hermione, Theo, Luna e Yuuki were-to-be her academic advisors; Daphne, Draco and sometimes Neville and Kagewa would-be her political ones. Masumi, Pansy and Blaise, her fighters. And she trained them to be that. No one of them asked what kind of organization they were joining – after Samhain it was evident to the snakes, the Ketsugas had never seen her as anything else but that, and Luna always knew. Hermione and Neville didn’t know yet, so sometimes she’d exclude them, but usually it was unnecessary. They would discover eventually, and she didn’t take much of her effort trying to hide.

The stopped at the top of the medieval tower, that was protected against intruders, spies or any potential threat by wards setted by her. Draco and Daphne stood in front of her, while she conjured a throne-like chair to herself. They had a whole view of Hogwarts from there and also from the whole valley.

“Dumbledore has seen something. Or heard, or noticed.  Don't care.  I have a meeting with him on half an hour. Anything else? Ah, yes. Jack O'Brien, that six year Hufflepuff come across me saying that he wanted to introduce us to some of his friends. Considering that he lives in Australia, I found this a quite interesting proposal. Provide portkeys to them, I want them in Hogsmeade at Saturday, to our next party. Something you wish to report?”

“A Gryffindor and a Slytherin, both fifth years, had a fight this morning. Their names are William Trasgow and Elle Sturm, we ended it before any teacher could be summoned, yet, we didn't know what punishment use.”

“I'll see them after my meeting, send them here at 3 p.m. Thanks, Daphne. Draco?”

“Yes, Freya. Niall Leigh and Elda Münis are getting along after your lecture, their marriage will prospere when it happens. Who would have thought that after Miss Münis was sorted into Hufflepuff, a weeding between a snake and a badger would still be possible?” Elda had almost banished from her family three years ago when she became a Puff, but the pureblood family decided against it. Her fiancée had refused to marry her after that, but that didn't matter as her family was quite influential - the Leighs maintained the agreement and everything else was well. Except that the two students hated each other before Freya's lecture.

“Good to know. The Noble House of Münis isn't something throw away, and the Great House of Leigh is a good ally, too.”  They assented with their heads, quietly. She smiled. “End of the business mood, if everything is said.” The two blonds let out their breaths, everything was okay now.

“So…how are the things with your fiancée, Rey?” asked Draco with a smirk.

“Everything is well, Drake. Why don’t you tell me about little Toria?” She and Daphne snorted, but the second was a little more interested in the response, it was her sister, in the end.

“Lively as always.” He answered, shuddering. The witches laughed, Astoria Greengrass wasn’t sophisticated as her sister, according the others. Freya had never seen her, but Tracey had set a self-explaining picture of the nine years old girl – cute, petite and tomboyish.

“Ugh, to think the day to be free of that imp depends on this idiot here.” Daphne said with a fake-nauseated voice.

“Hey, Daphs. That wasn’t nice, I will be your brother-in-law!” Draco protested.

“Yeah, and because of it that it’s so terrible.”

Freya gave a small laugh. “Good to see two children between the politics. Now, I have to go. But you two need to spend more time with Zabini and Parkinson, or you will never be able to truly insult someone.” She waved them goodbye.

Theo was waiting for her outside the tower, reading a book. She used a little legemency to watch he resolving a time dilation equation. “Time-turners?” The witch enquired while the wizard agreed. “You can discover a bunch of thinks if you research it a little. It follows Novikov self-consistency conjecture,”

“I could add some information to your research, if you want, have already made one similar. Never on time turners, though.”

“Some light could be appreciated.”

“I’m afraid that I can only show you darkness.” She winked.                “Literally and figuratively. Taking an example, I’m almost sure that the Multiverse exits, yet, I can’t show it to you. That is because nothing can prove the existence of something that doesn’t exists in our reality. I could go to Mars and be able to live there, in another universe, however, if I return, I’ll never have gone to there. Some point them that a multiverse would be impossible in our reality, and that is also true. This universe is our reality, and something of other universe doesn’t belong to our reality.”

“You have a point. But this doesn’t have any sense. I mean, if it cannot be verified – if can’t even happen – it is just a hypothesis without basis.” He argued as they walked to the Headmaster Tower.  “And we go back to the start. Well, a circle doesn’t have a beginning. Can I join, Lady Granian?” asked Luna.

“Of course, Moon Passion.”

“I left Mort Moon and Snow Secret at the Tower, searching for Moon Frogs. But this quest looks to be be very interesting. Maybe we will end up finding some Aquavirius Maggots, the last one I saw was in you.” Freya was the only person able to understand the girl, besides her father but she did it well. The Crescent Moon was a symbol to Rowena Ravenclaw, and a little praise to herself, frog venom was used in the fabrication of Ravenclaw’s Diadem  and the Almanac of Ages, a manuscript said to hold all knowledge. Very easy to understand the reference to knowledge. Aquavarius Maggots, the other side, were a legend. Popular, but that nobody knew the truth. A little more difficult to understand, but meant a mystery.

“Understandable. I was saying that, while a multiverse cannot be proved, the Earth reeks of it. When you go around the world as a magic empath, you can see it full of black holes. Full of nothing. Vacuum, some say. I do not, vacuum means void, in latin. They are not vacant, they are full – full of something that doesn’t exists in this universe, in this reality. Accidental magic, raw power or even something doesn’t directly related magic, but something I can still feel, can be the cause. Magic, have you already thought what magic is? Magic isn’t composed by biological material, by chemical material. Like a soul, what is a soul? Could a soul exist without magic? There is something I can tell, these black holes, are almost like a magical core.”

“You mean that magic, and souls, aren’t from this universe, then? That all of these…” Theodore inquired, gesturing to their surroundings. “…Are not from this universe? That we walk between two universes, and while we can just see this one, we are made by other. And that people like you can sense it?” He was astonished, Freya could notice it.”

“It’s an idea, a theory, a little childish, to tell the truth. But after all, we walk in light, still, we are darkness. Moon Passion?”

“I would say that Theodore was infected by a gulpling pinky. And that we just found a Aquavarius Maggot. I must tell dad.”

Freya smiled. “We depart here, I’m afraid.” She told them, in front of Dumbledore’s office. “Where will you two go now?”

“I’m meeting Neville, we are going to search Nargles, terrible creatures, the Nargles, trying to infest our Tower.” Freya stared at the girl. Spies at Turris Medius? “Tell Susan Bones, the Oaken Boy, Henrich Staley and Noah Plickfeinsteir. Maybe you could also call Tonks and Silverbane. They are all civil to one another and never had problems before.” Freya instructed, satisfied.  The witch was almost sure that none of them were friends, either, and that was helpful to avoid talks while working.

“Yes, my lady.” Luna agreed and waved goodbye to them. Freya ended the silencing charm on the dirty-blonde girl, as nobody would be able to hear her or even read her lips, with that. “Theodore?”

“I was thinking about the Void and the invisible to the human eye. Had you ever thought about a 4D artifact? It would be invisible to the human eye. To the Earth Universe, to tell the truth.”

“You mean a tesseract?”

“More like a Hexacosichoron.” Freya laughed at that. A 600-cell? In the material world? Just with magic. “Actually, it’s quite interesting. Why don’t you present the concept to Hermione and any other student interested? While I’m almost sure that she knows the idea, I’m not so sure about an advanced knowledge in that. If you find anything, it would be very…useful. I’d help, if you need, but my research time has already ended.” She explained. A four-dimensional object wouldn’t exist in material world, but would still be there. Almost like her whole theory. If that was possible, then a dekeract would still be a dream, but a dream with recipe. “Do it, Nott. Now, if you excuse me…” She ended the charm on the wizard and opened the door, ignoring the gargoyle asking a password.

Freya stared at the old wizard in front of her and sat on the most near comfortable looking charm. “Welcome, my girl. Sherbet Lemon?” The frail looking asked her, and she refused. Using Legilimency, she entered into the Wizard’s Mind, or in the surface of it. He had the strongest Occlumency walls she had seen in anyone except herself and Tom, but she was a better Legimens. It was interesting that of the Top Ten of Mind Arts Practitioners, four of them were British. But it wasn’t surprising, they had hold that knowledge for one thousand and half years, after stealing it from Romans. Tom had once told her that she was the second strongest Legimens, and he was the third. An Etiopian Wizard called Verstand Lees Stryd, that was one hundred eighty-nine was the first. A Brazilian wizard named Ricardo Mentiall, the fourth. The fifth was Gellert Grindelwald. The sixth, a Hindu woman, Aditi Misra. The seventh, Albus Dumbledore. The eighth, a man called Hermes Braines, born in USA. An Indonesian named Budi Ibrahim was the ninth and a Danish witch named Ragna Stenberg was the tenth.

She was the fifth occulmens, Tom being the first. Nicholas Flamel was the second, and Ellinor Alexandersen, an Austrian witch, the third. The forth was, surprisingly, a Buddhist Monk that had never heard of the Wizard World and had none magical ancestry, nobody knew his name. Dumbledore was the fifth and she, the sixth. Grindelwald te seventh and a Mexican wizard named Pablo Fernandez the eighth. Verstand Lees Stryd was the ninth  and the tenth was a Canadian twenty-years witch whose name was Hazel Chastain. This, of course, wasn’t known by anybody else aside Voldemort and herself.

“So, Freya. I hope that you are enjoying Hogwarts as much as I do.” Freya was a little skeptical about that, after all, it was the end of the year, if he really hoped that, he would have checked. “The staff always praises you, what makes me thing that you have not any difficulties.”

“Thank you for your concern, sir, but I’m doing rather well at the classes.” _And don’t call me ‘my girl’ or Freya or even Hella! It’s Miss Nephtys or Lady Nephtys to you!_ She swore in her mind.  “I heard you don’t live with your parents, my girl. I must express my curiosity about it.”

“I live with my fiancée in Norway, in the Manor that was built to us. My parents life in the castle.”

“You are really good in English, I must congratulate. Yet, you didn’t choose Durmstrang, there is a reason behind it?”

“Actually, there is. My mom is American and my fiancée are Americans, so I was also invited to Salem Witches Institue, that I had to refuse because of the distance. My German isn’t good enough to Durmstrang, as I have lived my life inside the manor. Even my father isn’t from there, he just went because of the inherence of his mother. The Nephtys name is Egyptian, as you must have noticed, and survives in my father’s family for five hundred years.” She lied, prideful. It was an unbelievable lie to anyone, except Dumbledore. He had expected that, a proud Slytherin that valued money and power and made herself more prestigious. The whole talk had given the Headmaster some information, that he would regard as useless. They had money, they had a Castle and then built a Manor, she had been invited to “several” schools, they had an ancient family, that further research would reveal to him that had done nothing important. Besides, she had added a mild charm to her words. He would remember that he had the talk, and his impression of it, and would be able to remember the information, but would forget the last in two minutes after he remember it.

“It has come to my attention that you can be usually seen with other’s houses students, I hope you aren’t having any problem with Slytherin. Mr. Potter kindly informed me that he has seen you with Mister Leigh and Miss Münis, but I trust that you are treating all students with the deserve they deserve, my girl.” She nodded, fully agreeing with the Headmaster without putting herself in a delicate position. The witch was avoiding snorting, but her efforts would be wasted if she stood there for much long.

“I assure you, sir, that I hold no ill intentions against others students. I have no prejudice about Hogwarts Houses, as some of my housemates do.” She half-lied – she didn’t have prejudices, but soon, neither would all her housemates. “As matter of the fact, I found their company quite pleasant. My family taught me to see the value of friendship.” She continued, still prideful. Talking about her family again, like a self-centered brat that always portrayed herself as the best, and not bigoted.

The Headmaster looked dejected with her personality, she noticed with a mental-grin. It was as if he found a whole Gringotts vault full of sherbet lemon on his name, just to discover that all of them were puke-tasted. The witch could see in his border mind the image of a Llyod Potter badmouthing her. Well, nobody would have expected less, as she was the one who had stolen the spotlight from the boy, at least in Hogwarts. And the girl didn’t even like the Light.

She was also able to see the boy visiting the Light Lord more often than anyone else in the castle. They were casual to each other, something truly _admirable. Well, fools that stick together are united fools._ The wizard was saying something yet she couldn’t bring herself to care – oh, she’d care if he was praising Tom or talking about giving the Wizard World to them, but otherwise, it was useless.

“Of course, my girl. I am right to say that you are also not having difficulties with your Housemates?” Insisted the old man.

“Thank you for your concern, sir, but it’s absolutely nothing I can’t deal with.”

“If you say so, my girl.” 

* * *

April 25th, 1992 – Ireland

Freya observed the room at the West Wing of Farraige de Olc. Covered by the rune in Kannada _Ritarn_ (Return) _,_ one in Malayalam called _Kēāśaṁ_ (Cell), the elf runes _Winya_ (New)and _Lumë_ (Time), the goblin rune that meant young, _Garaz_ ,  The Malayalam script was made of a beautiful round letteres, while the goblin symbols were rustic groups of strokes, the kannada language had curved lines and the elven symbols were sophisticated thin lines. The whole chamber shined green, the runes lighting it.

Tom was in the center of it, his whole body covered by the runes in Encantado blood – a Brazilian shapeshifting boto. She had written the runes in his whole – whole – body, and behind the blood, he was completely naked. It has been the first time she had seen his whole body, and also the last time seeing that body. Freya smiled, her hand in his face. The witch would never return to see that face, the face that had raised her, that she had loved.  It was only meant to remain in her memory.

Suddenly, she had the urge to touch his skin, his whole body, his hair. The Dark Lord she loved would still be there, but not the appearance she had always recognized. /You won’t agree with me, my lord, but I will miss all these wrinkles./ The man chuckled at that, his face painted by blood was still that face, she touched the rune to time, melancholic. /I wish more time, Tom./

/More than the whole eternity?/ The witch also chuckled at that, they grinning to each other. He took her lips with that old mouth one last time and she tried to remember all the times he had kissed her like that. /It’s time to move, my dear. Yet, sometimes all we wish is to stay. So dramatic, isn’t it?/ Freya smiled while he ended the kiss, and turned away.

/It’s time, then. When you want, my lord./Voldemort drank the potion and she watched as the blood on his body duplicated, washing the runes in the floor, walls and ceiling.  

Blood rolled under her feet, without wetting the barefoot skin. Freya watched her mate scream while years were taken from his body, the skin peeling and new growing.His gray hair fell, and new black threads grew. And those were just the external changes. Inside, Freya knew his bones disappeared and her organism stopped, to just return to work. It wasn’t the Vaedenaava Curse, but almost like that. The runes turned gold while he writhed on the floor. Freya couldn’t help, she couldn’t even touch him. His eyes were locked, and the witch was glad for that, she wouldn’t be able to see her love in so much pain looking into his eyes.

The eleven years old also felt some pain, however not much. They weren’t activating their bond while doing that, and Freya wanted to feel grateful because of that, but it was useless. That wasn’t the bad part. The second stage of the process was the most painful. The stage where he would acquire body immortality, because soul he already had. First, they had thought the body would be induced in a freezing state, but that wasn’t true. It wasn’t regeneration either, but that was more close to the concept. Once, Freya had seen a superhero in a Muggle Comic Book that aged slower because the regeneration factor, but Tom wouldn’t age. His cells could regenerate if they died, but they would never die. It was an _if_ that couldn’t happen. 

She knew that she had to go in that moment. The second stage would result in a power explosion similar to a very small nuclear fission, that wouldn’t be bad as a nuclear fusion, but was still bad enough to create an atomic bomb, and the runes would only protect Tom.

/See you in my tower, my lord./ Freya said although she knew he wasn’t listening – who would listen someone in his second most painful experience? But Tom had ordered her to do it, so he already knew.

She walked to the door and, just after closing the chamber, shadow walked.

“Aredhel, our lord will want a full meal when he finishes. We’ll have dinner in his tower.” The female house elf bowed and popped away.

 

 

* * *

Around ten p.m. at that Saturday, a new Dark Lord looked at her across the table – or an old Dark Lord had returned, or a young Dark Lord had come back to life. But Freya didn’t find it strange. To tell the truth, she felt relived. Tom was satisfied with his reconquered appearance, and although  none of them had been bothered by the age gap, Freya wasn’t able to disagree that had been a welcome change. The twenty-six years Voldemort was handsome. His inky hair touching his neck, his crimson round eyes still shined through the long lashes and his sharp lips curved in a smirk, everything was there, so beautiful. His aquiline nose harmonized with the oblong face.

/How does it feels, Tom?/ She asked, as the wizard served himself with the roasted fowl – with white truffle slices under its skin. The witch took a sip of her wine, setting it down with a smile. /It feels like this./ He answered, sending a wave of gratification towards her, drinking some whiskey.

/Glad you like/ she hissed quietly while Tom kissed her.

This time, he inserted his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it!  
> So, if anyone are wondering what are Discmans, they are portable CD players. A Walkman MiniDisc was launched in 1992, but here I talk about the D-50. If anyone has another question, please ask. And bookmark, kudo or comment please, as my self-confidence is a little low.


	8. The Birth of the Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day where everyone meets and there is a surprise in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fred and George's day - also known as April Fools' Day! So, this is a new chapter, and I'm not fooling you. I'll release other soon, I promise. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Any familiar situations belong to her books. Also in some chapters I use direct excerpts from Harry Potter books, I'll write at the beginning of the chapters when this happens.
> 
> /There from thy daughter, sister, wife, at midnight drain the stream of life;/ It's an excerpt from The Giaour, by Lord Byron
> 
> I don't have a beta.

 

> _"It takes a long time to become young."_
> 
> _\- Pablo Picasso_

July 31th, 1992 – England

Hermione Granger watched as her first friend walked with a man inside the Hall of Malfoy Manor, where everyone had gathered. She was the only muggleborn there, but nobody seemed to consider that maybe she didn’t know the pureblood etiquette. And she knew. It was Freya’s birthday and for the first time in her life, the ravenclaw met the spoken fiancée. Hermione was surrounded by Slytherins, they were the only ones invited, and know she understood why. That was a Death Eater gathering, and Hermione didn’t feel bothered by that.

She knew she should. They had tortured muggles, killed witches and wizards more powerful than her. But that was her first friend, the prettiest girl she had seen in her life, the most charismatic and as fifty proud purebloods bowed to her friend’s fiancée, including the others students.

“Well,” said Luna as they were ordered to stand up. “It looks like we are with the Blibbering Humdingers.” Freya laughed across the room, while speaking with a drop-dead gorgeous ginger with a lack of clothes. “Great-phrased, Luna. Yet, I’d prefer if you also were they.”

 Hermione didn't truly understand Luna, but she was almost sure that the comment referred to the dark wizards around them. Looking to Daphne, Luna, Tracey, Pansy, Millicent, Blaise, Draco, Theo and Neville, she understood that all Slytherins and a certain ravenclaw already knew. The badger, though, shared her surprise and peacefulness.

“My Lord, may I show you the ones that helped me this year?” Freya asked, indicating them to her fiancée. Voldemort. That was Lord Voldemort. Hermione didn't shivered yet a small thought came to her mind. _Wasn't he supposed to be…older?_

Freya and Voldemort made a beautiful couple, though, she had to agree. Her friend used a flowing off shoulder black dress, the skirt covering her feet. Silver lines drew a pattern in her bust. Her curled (a change in the usual) and emerald beaded hair arranged in a Victorian fashion. Voldemort was handsome, in a way Hermione would never have thought. His inky hair matched with the dark frock coat he used and in his hand rested a very flashy ring, with a red diamond. He used black pirate-like boots, and Hermione was almost laughing at that realization. Very Funny.

The most powerful wizard gave them a glance, lazily. Freya smiled at him and in the next moment, all Hermione could see was the stone floor, while she bowed.

“Draco Malfoy, Lucius' son.” Freya said and the dark lord allowed him to stand up. “Daphne Greengrass, Philip's daughter.” The girl also looked up. “Pansy Parkinson, Edmund's heiress. This is Blaise Zabini, Lorena’s son.” The two friends didn't get up and Hermione noticed a kind of ranking there. “Theodore Nott, Geoffrey's son.” The wizard lifted his head a little. “Luna Lovegood, heiress of the Ancient and Powerful House of Arianrhod.” The witch stood up and Hermione felt some wary glance at the blonde. “Neville Longbottom, heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom.” Neville did the same as Luna, Daphne and Draco and Hermione understood that the four of them would be family Lords and Ladies when they matured, and presumes to be because of that.

“Millicent Bulstrode, Maxwell's daughter.” If it was possible, Millicent would have bowed deeper, Hermione understood. “Hermione Jean Granger.” The raven tried to copy Millicent, she was the only muggleborn there and even half-bloods like Millie weren't respected by the Death Eaters. But Freya and her Lord ignored completely that. She could hear the dark wizards whispering something about her blood, however their faces didn’t tell anything.

“Stand up.” Said a cold yet peaceful voice, hard and husky. Hermione, Theo, Millie, Pansy and Blaise got up. “You have served my wife. I don’t have anything to do with you.” He hissed something else in a language that the muggleborn didn’t recognize and neither did any being there with the exception of a beautiful girl and two snakes.  The girl who happened to be Hermione friend nodded to her husband and the Dark Lord went away.

Freya threw a beautiful and sad small to them and motioned with her head to Lord Malfoy. “My lady,” said the host. “It’s an honor receive you in your birthday. I speak for all of us when I say this. It’s been over a decade when the fate of the world was sealed, over a decade ago, when the prophecy of all seers began. Today we toast the New Reign; today we toast the Rise of the Darkness. To the Rise of Darkness!” 

Hundreds of voices echoed the final words. Hermione could see her friends, the Slytherins doing the same their parents did, Luna toasting while saying: “To the Rise of Blibbering Humdinger!” Hermione exchanged looks with Neville, both of them not knowing what to do. Finally, they decided to congratulate each other with a silent toast.

“This must sucks to you.” Commented a voice behind her and she turned to see a brunette around her age with a curly hair and icy blue eyes. Her plum lips curved in a smirk, her face was almost angelic. “Who are you?” the witch inquired.

“Anaïs Argentnàve. Your name is Hermione Granger, yes?”

“Indeed.” Hermione agreed noticing the fangs. “A vampire. You are a vampire.”

  “ _Vampire, chupacabra, abchanchu, aswang, shtriga, upyr, mullo…_ We have many names, child. Just don’t confuse us with _succubi,_ _strzyga,_ _leanan sídhes, las lloronas, jiangshis,  aufhockers, strigois_ and _soucouyants_ and you will end up well. _Dhampires_ are half-vampires if you want to know, but I’m not one, unfortunately.”

“Well, I guess it could be worse as dhampires usually need to survive before becoming it.” The girl shuddered. “What I was saying was that it must suck, you know, to be surrounded by people that despise you and be aware of it. Nobody told you of this crowd?”

“You don’t?”

“Me?” The vampires chuckled. “Oh, I despise your kind as wizards despise mine, to tell the truth. But I can point you some wizards that will talk very well of me to you. Can’t you?”

“Yes, I guess…” Hermione was a little anxious, Anaïs seemed to be cool and all, but that was a vampire. Vampire didn’t just talk to anyone. They approached their victims, didn’t they? “Of course I should have known you would be interesting.” The being declared. “You are right about it, vampires would only approach a muggle, or a muggleborn if they were to be his or her prey. But you are not just a muggleborn, are you? Let me tell a secret: Among them you are the less skilled in politics, and you have just been declared as the Dark Lady’s property, all of us are hunting for you. Think about it.”

The vampires faded away in the shadows, but some minutes later Hermione saw her in the balcony on the second floor. The witch looked for her friends, finding out that Draco had disappeared, as had Freya. Blaise was flirting with a boy and Daphne with a handsome boy three years older than they. Tracey’s brother, Roger. Millicent was dancing with a plain-looking black haired guy, Terence Higgs, that if Hermione recalled was four years older, they seemed to get along well.

Pansy wasn’t there, too. Tracey was in counter kissing a girl that Hermione didn’t know. They were twelve, Rowena, yet the female snake didn’t think twice about snogging with an unknown (to Hermione) girl. She looked to Theodore, praying that he wasn’t doing anything romantic/sexual. It worked, he was staring his father head, in the opposite side of the ballroom, and the witch was almost sure that if his eyes had laser, Geoffrey Nott would have holes in his head. Weighing her options, Hermione went to the balcony.

* * *

 

Draco Malfoy was outside the manor, in the French gardens. A ten years old girl had climbed a tree. Her chestnut hair was cut in ear length style, around her high cheekbones. The grey eyes flashed when she saw her fiancée.

“Hey, Tori...” Even before Draco could finish, he was received by a punch.

“It’s Ash, as you know.” She said, getting up after jumping from her place in the tree.

“Yeah, yeah. You could have just warned, you know. But leave it.”

“Okay, Drake. I saw your lady, our. Great job, following the deity of beauty. Too bad she will marry the Handsome Lord. I guess they will make a beautiful couple.”

“As always, Ash, you see the woman first.” Draco said, fondly. He liked his fiancée – truth, it was more like a sister, but well. They, he and the Greengrass sister, had grown up together and understood one another very well. To a ten years old girl, Astoria was a self-proclaimed bisexual for a long time – three years. Anyone would argue that they were all too young to all of that, however Slytherins were very premature in romantic relationships. 

“I also saw the _mudblood_ , and the expression you try to hide when looking at her.” Draco didn’t blush, not because his body didn’t try, but because he restrained it. “Pretty witch, she will be a beautiful woman. The braids suit her well. That brown mane must be very beautiful, too. I want her, you want her. I don’t care if you are going to pursue her, but I can see the chemistry between me and her or you and her before I see the one between the two of us.”

Draco sighed, already knowing that was going to happen. He was quite fond of the raven but that was another story. He had never tried to hold a conversation with her, sure, they talked with each other but Hermione was a researcher and he a politic. He walked in the front army, she in the library. They were so involved in dominating the school and having fun that neither one of them had time to know the others. They didn’t need to reveal their lives if they wanted jokes, parties, debates and alliances – and that was what resumed the year, besides whatever Freya had done to make the Dark Lord look like a young man.

“Ash.”

“Drake.”

“Yeah, okay. But give me some time. Well, a lot of time I guess.”

“Are you going to tell me that you don’t know to seduce a girl? We had classes of it four years ago, I was six and I still remember it!”

“I know how to have a _rendezvou_ s, but this doesn’t mean that I have stopped to work to a Dark Lady, and it’s a great amount of work.”

“How is it? I mean, is she your friend or your boss?”

“The two. There is time to everything. Most of time I don’t see her but when I see she is funny and friendly, well, she has charisma. Once a day I made a report. That’s all.”

“It seems to be an impersonal relationship.”

“A little, but I have trust my life to her in the second I knew her, and she trusts me part of her power. It’s good. Besides, the weekly party idea was hers and after seeing Snape drunk, everything is worth.” Draco confessed and both of them laughed. “He is a moody drunk, it fits don’t you think?”

“I haven’t seen it coming.” Laughed Astoria as they sat on a bank in the garden, and she perched on the back, feet on the seat, beside Draco. “Me neither” admitted the heir of Malfoy. “However I had the time of my life when Freya asked me to send him to his bedroom. I still blackmail him with the memories of that night.

“I wish to go to Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, it’s funny. But without Freya would have been a hell, she caused the whole uproar. Freya Hella, deliver us from hell, what do you think about it?”

“Freya Hella Nephtys. Three goddesses, Freya the deity of love, war, beauty, death and anything else you can think about. Hella, the goddess of hell. Nephtys the deity of air, death and mourning.”

“Very…strong. Astraea is a daughter of a Greek god, if I remember who personified justice. This is the source of my name, I think. I prefer Ash. But my surname sucks, a great reason to marry you.”

“If you say so. My surname is weird. Mal means bad in French. Foy in Old French means faith or oath. Yeah, it’s great, Ash.”

“I want that _mudblood,_ Drake. We can love her.”

“Of course, Ash. The first step is to stop calling her _mudblood_. Can you do this?” Astoria gave him a mocking punch in return.

The couple curled against each other, enjoying the evening and the summer breeze.  

* * *

Tracey tasted the tongue that travelled through her mouth in wonder. The Samodiva that she had met first some years ago, named Iliana had a beautiful fairy appearance, though Samodivas were the dark counterpart of fairies.

Pansy had encountered some creature friends after the presenting to the Dark Lord and Tracey had gone with her, it was interesting to remember how she ended up like that. “Too young to anything else.” The fairy groaned. “Where are the others?” asked Iliana.

“I’m almost sure that Anaïs kidnapped Hermione after we ignored their presence. Hope that my friend doesn’t become a prey. Pansy took some girls to the dancefloor but most of them are seducing some man. Who knows?”

“Mila, Nikol and Yoanka were luckier than me, I guess. Well, I want to find them, but what do you think of grabbing some drinks before?”

“Whatever.” Tracey answered while the two of them asked some cocktails. The Samodiva ordered a Bloody Mary and Tracey a Margarita (no one cared if twelve years old drank some tequila there).

While they wandered around the ballroom, Tracey felt a little worried about Hermione. The muggleborn didn’t know that world, and there was the slightly chance of her blood being sucked by a vampire or anything like that. You’d never know when some of them lose control.

If someone had told her before that year she would worry about someone other than herself, the girl would have laughed. Tracey had never cared about anyone – even her brother. The Davis was a pureblood family, yet they were not a noble family – rich, a lot, but not noble – she had never been brainwashed to serve her family. When she went to Hogwarts, everything changed. Freya was unique – mysterious, dark, charismatic. Her brother’s fiancée turned to be a fierce girl behind the aristocrat. Pansy Parkinson, a soldier. Draco Malfoy, a politic that Tracey could actually like – a remarkable achievement. Blaise Zabini, an astute fox. Millicent Bulstrode still had the innocence that was expected in eleven years old. Hermione Granger, a cute know-it-all. Theodore Nott was a little weird to her, his hunger for knowledge and his anti-social behavior. She still hadn’t an opinion about Longbottom and Lovegood, they were fine, she thought. The Ketsugas were…nobles and servants at the same time. The twins, mainly, born to their family and hesitant to open up. Himitsu and Inoue were quiet, extremely.

She had required a month to recognize that her false-friendly behavior had lost the “false”.  A month to get used to the fact of having a friendship. Tracey had grown up with all of them, in the same circles, but didn’t about any. The witch had seen her brother be forced into an engagement, had listened Malfoy’s rant. Had watched the son (and his cold smile) of the Black Widow in all her weddings. Had meet Lily Moon in all tea parties their mothers attended. Had seen a Pansy running away with some boys to smoke in the same ceremonies (yes, since the girl was six). She had watched a Millicent Bulstrode playing with dolls that shared her curly hair. But she had never talked with any of them in search for pleasure before Hogwarts. Freya had changed everything. When Draco Malfoy had called all of them on Winter Solstice, and told them about the true identity of her fiancée, her first words had been: “Now nobody can blame her for being amazing.” – Well, those were her words after a loud “What!?”, but nobody could blame _her_ for it.

“Yuuki,” called the snake after seeing the albino. “Did you see Hermione?” The white girl turned to her, her eyes moving to all directions – albinism fault. “ _There from thy daughter, sister, wife,  
at midnight drain the stream of life;” _ was her response. Tracey looked to Iliana, helpless. “Do you know what she means?”

“Not sure. I knew a Leanan Sídhe that once read it to me, but you know how they are – reading everything their lovers writes. It’s muggle, so I doubt anyone knows.”

“And the meaning of the words?”

“Well, drain the stream of life is pretty self-explaining when your friend is with a vampire, don’t you think?”

“Hell! Couldn’t you have said it early?” shouted Tracey, running through the ballroom, behind her, she could hear Yuuki smiling and saying. “It’s _The Giaour_ , Byron. Under willow.”

* * *

Roger Davies watched as her sister run out the Manor. Daphne Greengrass was beside him, the two of them talking. Most people usually thought that having a fiancée since childhood made them friends – bullshit. Others thought that it turned the future partners against each other, and that was also bullshit. While both of these could happen, neither of them was a law, and if it was, they would be breaking the laws since three years. They were civil to each other, and that was all. They talked, of course, but there was no emotion between them.  Nothing.

Daphne took a sip of wine, both of them stood behind the dancefloor, while some couples waltzed. She was a little worried about Tracey, as the girl seemed to be a bit alarmed with something. The blonde sighed, if things didn't work out she could always call Freya, if she discovered where her Lady had gone. _Draco must know._ The Nephtys’s minions, the group called itself. She and Draco joked that the two of them were the Greatest Minions, a very respectful name. Daphne smiled fondly at that memory - she appreciated the company of her friends.

Roger Davis watched her with a cold expression. He knew how important his fiancée was, more than he even being three years younger, she was almost like a personal counselor of Lady Freya, and since the New Year, every dark wizard or witch knew how much influence the now twelve years held.

He dragged her to the dancefloor, waiting for a new waltz as that ended. 

* * *

 

“Have you ever heard about it? Pythia Gases.” Achelous Ameclaw asked, his curly silver hair swirling around his face while its owner leaned on the fig.

“Used to divination or something like that in Ancient Greek. Very rare. Don't go for it.” Lynx Gamp, a seventeen wizard who had inherited the beauty of the House of Black. The girl breathed the smoke of her cigarette, not caring. They always discussed drugs to have some hallucinogen experience, and most of times she refused.

“Blue Lotus, it's Egyptian and very comfy. Taste it someday.” She suggested. Pansy would never knew what was the sensation of those drugs, because a poison-tasting training at the early age of two that made her immune to all effects. Even cigarettes were just a sort of habit, which she didn't bother to end.

“Where is Zabini? I was thinking that snogging three guys and a chick was enough. He can't be that frustrated, I mean you guys attend a school full of them.” Orpheus rant. Pansy chuckled at the wizard.

“I'm very well, thank you. But you know how Zabini is; he would have eaten some Hufflepuffs alive if they knew that babies aren't delivered by storks.”

“Really?”

“No, must of them are common eleven years that know what sex is, but just the dictionary explanation. Thanks Salazar.”

“I'm not a cannibal you know, Parks. Well, I won’t refuse a rendezvous with Nott or Davis, Greengrass either. I would love to have Our Lady, but I'm almost sure I'll regret saying that. Besides, you cannot say anything about being satisfied, as a great representative of the asexual community.”

“She is twelve, Zabini, most twelve years girls don't know much about these things.”

“Whatever. Are you aware that she has most likely already used all drugs you are talking about and could help you to find the best with less long-lasting effects?” While magic usually repaired the damage caused by drugs, there were some scars that even it couldn't fade. Pansy laughed at the expressions of her oldest friends, the cigarette long forgotten beneath her fingers - she did not smoke in the presence of non-smoking people, like Blaise.

“The boys were throwing a fit about your disappearance. I know it runs on the family but you need to control your thirst to seduce. Sometimes I wonder if you are some sort of incubus.” The only girl said.

“Very unlikely. Did you see the guy that lady Mahalath was with? Drop-dead handsome. I'm straight yet I can't say if I was enticed by the female or by the male.” Orpheus commented.

“Straight my ass.” Snickered Pansy.

“Yeah, I'd totally fuck those two.” Blaise told them, smirking to Pansy.

“Get a grip kid! You are also twelve!” Lynx shouted, a little disgusted. The youngest laughed and made a high-five.

 

 

* * *

Neville Longbottom was having a very interesting day. What he considered a good omen; after all he had just completed his first dozen years. Luna was dancing in his arms, in a very swirling waltz. The Heir of Longbottom didn't care. He was in the snake's nest and didn't care - very brave. Neville liked Luna even if she was understandable sometimes, like that where she told him about Aquawanders. Freya would understand, but he definitively didn't.

It was interesting to decipher how could someone be so awesome, however the fact that his Lady has been raised by the most powerful Wizard alive gave him a hint.

“It'd be awesome to know where she is, to tell the truth.” The badger grumbled.

“In the cobra's nest lays the Death. She has many names, but can speak just one word. Swirling around her prey, lays the Death.” Luna sang in a dark and dreamy tone. Neville shuddered, that wasn't Luna…well, the dreamy part was.

“Luna?”

“Moon Passion shined to Deep Loyalty, but it was too much in the bottom to see. Death surrounds the cobra's nest, but it doesn't attack. The One who Runs escapes from a truth concealed by a lie.”

“Moon Passion is you, isn't it?”

Luna shivered and abandoned the dark tone. “Have some nargueles infected you too?”

“Hum, Luna… what were you saying?”

“Did you forget? Oh, don't feel sorry, you are sane as I am. I just did it, too.”

Neville nodded, taking a note to visit St. Mungo's Mind Healers Section, after all being sane as Luna Lovegood wasn't a great idea. Then, he would have to tell Freya about that, his Lady would know the meaning.

* * *

Freya Hella was tired. She was kidnapped a bunch of politics after introducing her friends/servants/classmates, with a short note of Tom saying to meet her in an hour. The rest of the hour was spend in a nest of annoying politics, when the hour ended she blew the Death Eaters and theirs allies away, and went to meet Tom.

/My dear. /

/My lord. I guess you needed me? /

/Yes. I was getting a little suspicious of Igor. /

/Karkaroff, a betrayer? I’m a little surprised, must say. I wouldn’t have thought that someone who had revealed some Death Eater’s names and be shunned from the society to keep his position as Durmstrang Headmaster for you would  put his life in risk again./ 

/It’d be a foolish act; good to him that he did nothing like that. But he was hiding something. And you know what they always try to conceal. / Freya nodded at that, nobody ever hided good news from the Dark Lord, but some tried to do it with bad ones. /Must I asssume that my lord hass already disscovered it? / She hissed in angered tone. 

/Indeed. Some students seem to be a bit too much Light worshiper to our taste. I have the names; however disposing the school of them won’t help anything. No, I need someone there. And not as the Headmaster or a teacher. /

/I’m attending Durmstrang Institute, then. /

/Yes. The fifth year, where these students lay. An aging rune will do better than the potion, easier to keep. /

/I could use _Þ_ _ungennes, Uitti_ or _Voxtr_ runes, the others won’t work. Being in Norway, _Voxtr_ will be more detectable, and the effects of the second are unknown in a long time. / She stopped for a moment, thinking about the new plans. / Will I be able to visit Hogwarts or you prefer me to don’t do it? /

/You must come to the Islands every time you can. You can’t risk losing your minions, can you? / Voldemort hissed, fondly. /Yes, they can keep an eye on the students and even in Dumbledore – though the later isn’t necessary. It will be a little weird if the Ketsugas enroll with me at Durmstrang, however I can change the training I was planning to this year to the weekends./

/Come here, then my dear. / Freya let her Tom caress her cheek, purring when his magic touched hers. He groaned when she allowed her own magic run freely, wrapping the whole chamber in a dreamy plane, dark and cold. She could feel he near her, trying to capture her eyes. But she lowered them, staring at his chest, still wearing the coat. She wished to be there.

/Kiss me./ She pleaded, already acting, her hands into his back, twisting the fabric.

Tom broke the kiss, taking a moment to watch her face, without moving more than the needed. /As you wish. Happy birthday, my dear. /

* * *

Ketsuga Amaterasu watched her Lady. She had seat in a throne like chair, in the Malfoy Senior’s office. After rescuing a rather dazed Hermione from bloody thirsty vampires, Tracey Davies and a samodiva had called her cousin, which was hiding himself from the party at the garden, to help them. Anaïs Argentnàve hadn’t drunk for three months, so the vampire had just collapsed. Fortunately, the Ketsugas always carried a blood locket in their necks – as the number of hematophagous creatures in the world weren’t that small. They also carried poisons, serums, potions and things like that with them in the most unbelievable places, but that’s beside the point.

Between the havoc and the solution, they had received an invitation to join the Dark Lady at the host’s office in half an hour. So, they were there. When Hermione had told Freya what had happened, the girl nodded, probably already knowing.

“Please don’t judge them because of this. Well, maybe it’s an impossible request but I’ll still do it. Vampires aren’t animals. I won’t say that they are peaceful, but they have morals. The moral code varies according to the branch. Anaïs is from an ancient branch, very rough, but honored. They don’t feed themselves with forced blood. When she spoke to you she was just trying to approach you, by political reasons.” Freya explained.

“I don’t hold any grudge.”

“Good. But I suggest a bit of carefulness next time. And I’ll train self-defense with all of you. Don’t be deceived by my words, most of creatures have strict codes of honor, but they also have the traditions. The Argentnàve branch has practiced cannibalism since the Dawn of Magic, and this is one of the lighter traditions.”

“Do we want to know?” asked Blaise.

“No.  But you have already seen one or two.” Freya answered and the boy’s widened before shaking his head. “I see.”

“Truly you did.” Pansy gave him a mock-punch, the two of them leaning against the wall next the door, ignoring the empty seats – they always did it. Inoue Masumi was in corner near them.

 “Leaving this apart, I assume that my lady didn’t call us to be assured of Hermione’s safety.” Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

“Correct, Draco.  I’ll not attend Hogwarts this year. Tom decided it’s time to try some holidays at Durmstrang Institute.”

“My lady. I should arrange our transfers, then.” Ketsuga-kun rose onto his feet, a little alarmed.

“Please, Kagewa, sit down. You and your siblings will stay at Hogwarts,” staring at all the students, she clarified: “all of you will.” She smiled to the frustrated looks that became indignity seeing her expression. “You should see your faces. Unfortunately, I won’t attend the classes with you. Fortunately, Scotland is very near to Norway.” The witch declared smirking; every one of them knew that Freya wasn’t really someone to stay at the school, even if they didn’t know exactly how she did it as Hogwarts had anti-apparition wards.

“I guess we can still throw some parties, then?” Daphne inquired.

“As much as you can.” Freya laughed while Tracey and Blaise made a high-five. “I want an invitation, though. Theodore, Hermione, do you know what these are?” She asked while handing them a couple of leather straps.

“You know that it’s not necessary to be a genius to point this as a wand holster, right?” asked Neville, in a rare moment of sarcasm, which was complimented by Blaise with some clapping.

“Yes, the reason I didn’t give it to Luna.”

“They are portkeys.” Theodore noticed. “A present?”

“Yes.” She said throwing the fourteen wand-holsters in the desk. “Basilisk Skin. Just imagine the way you want them to look like and say _Fàgetung_ and it will change its appearance. They are one-way, one-time portkeys, to be used in an emergency. Just one. So use it well. Of course, I can redo them, and someday you will also be able to, but don’t waste it.”

Daphne turned it into a silver string and held it on her forearm. Draco’s became a dark belt with a snake and he hung it on his waist, as did Tracey’s, in a braided belt. Pansy and Blaise choose their thighs, Blaise’s in a very flashy black style and Pansy turned hers in two strands. Theodore and Hermione wrapped theirs in their wrists, Hermione’s looked to be made of wood and Theodore’s, metal. Millicent imitated the idea, hanging it on her arm, looking like roots. Neville and Masumi transformed them in large strands, Neville’s brown and flexible and Inoue’s very simple, and wore it in their chests. The Ketsuga twins turned it in a bunch of black strings and closed them around their legs. Yuuki and Luna nodded to each other, turning theirs to their napes, Luna’s with a shell texture and Yuuki’s like ice.

  “You’ll need some pockets in your clothes, pockets without end. But I also like the idea of the thighs, to tell the truth.” Freya blinked Pansy and Blaise while showing her own wand concealed by her skirt. “It’s rather sexy.”

“Thank you, my lady. We will made good use of this.” Amaterasu-chan said.

“Of course. May I have a talk with Mione and Nev?”

The others left the office, and Freya tested the wards she had raised again before turning to her friends.

“You didn’t know Tom’s identity.  Surprised?”

“Surprised? Yes. Horrified? No. We would have been I guess if he looked like the stories.” Neville said, with a relaxed tone.

“I know the concept. The children eating monster with a petrifying gaze and speaker of a satanic language ends up being a handsome wizard. _This_ is average to us, Nev.”

“Satanic?”

“Hermione understood it.”

“Yes, I did. I should be hyperventilating, Freya, hum…Dark Lady…whatever. But I’m not. I don’t even regard being attacked by a vampire something dangerous. Oh my god…Merlin…you know. I like the idea. I like the idea of being a Dark Lady’s minion. Rowena, how did I end up like that?”

“Are you sure you aren’t hyperventilating? Even Luna’s speech makes more sense than yours.” Freya told her.

“You understand Luna’s speech.” Hermione pointed out.

“True.” Was the Dark Lady response, to busy smirking to her friends. “Well, Neville, Mione stated her opinion, what about you?”

“Ugh…too much into this to retreat now.”

“Yes, yes. Don’t let people outside hear you treating me like that. And Neville? This is yours.” She said conjuring a small plant in a dark vase. The boy took around five minutes studying the plant.

“Oh, Merlin, it’s a silphium! It’s smaller than I thought. How did you found this? It was extinct around two thousand years.”

“Two thousand, two hundred and twenty-two years ago, to be exact, the last specimen of it died. But it left its traits. I have produced two of them five years ago, don’t want to know how. One I used in my wand. The other is in my island. It’s been a month since this one exists. She is small because of this.”

“You will tell me about this.” Hermione told the other witch.

“Well…Happy birthday, Neville. Now you two must meet Tracey. If you are going to attend this parties, it’s time to someone tell you about the others…guests. Go.”

And then, she shunned her friends from the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have nothing against vampires. The chapter glossary if you found something you don't know:  
> Chupacabra ("goat-sucker"): is a legendary animal in America, that drinks blood from livestock. I turned it a vampire in his most desperate state;  
> Abchanchu: a Bolivian vampire that shapeshifts in the form of an old and helpless traveler;  
> Aswang: a Filipino vampire ghoul;  
> Shtriga: an Albanian vampire that sucks the blood of infants;  
> Strzyga: an Slavic demon with two souls, two sets of teeth and two hearts;  
> Upyr: Ukrainian and Russian vampires;  
> Mullo: An undead that died of an unnatural cause and didn't have a proper funeral rite;  
> Leanan Sídhe: a beautiful being that takes human lovers and lead them to brief and highly-inspired lifes. Muses that lead artists to madness;  
> La llorona: (the weeping woman). The legends tells the story about a woman who drowned her children to be with the man she loved and who refused her. She killed herself and was obligated to search for her children in the Earth. I made them an entire race, that like banshees, are signs to death;  
> Jiangshi: a reanimated corpse in Chinese folklore;  
> Aufhocker: a shapeshifter that tears the throats of humans;  
> Strigoi: the immortal vampires in Romanian Mythology;  
> Soucouyant: a blood-sucking hag;  
> Dhampir: a half-human vampire, their powers are like those of vampires but without the weakness but with short-lifes;  
> Samodiva: a woodland fairy;  
> Phythia Gases:Used by the Oracle of Delphi that inhaled the gases, go into a trance, and recite prophesies;  
> Blue Lotus: Smilar to a weaker version of MDMA or ecstasy, blue lotus causes a state of relaxed inhibitions in which users are more talkative, comfortable, and aroused;  
> Þungennes: Growth maturity, Old English  
> Uitti: year, Hittie  
> Voxtr: Growth, Old Norse  
> Don't use drugs, please! This is only an story and the effects will be very worse than the idea I gave.


	9. A Little Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya Goes to Durmstrang. The quote is to the one member of Sturm und Drang movement.  
> The disclaimer is in the other chapters.   
> I don't have a beta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, bookmark, give me your opinion about Durmstrang - yes, in this story the school is huge.

 

> _"The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it.”_
> 
> _\- Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther_

September 1st, 1992 – Norway

After waving goodbye to the Hogwarts students at King’s Cross Station, Freya had apparated in front of Durmstrang gates, where the students were supposed to meet. As Durmstrang didn’t accept muggleborns, the students were supposed to be left in front of the gates by their magical guardians – all of them would only be able to apparate outside the castle and would forget its localization until next year – well, if they weren’t Freya Hella. Looking to the great amount of students around, Freya decided she liked the time zones. She wouldn’t need to wait.

Durmstrang was a gothic citadel, and Freya cheered at that thought. Larger and higher than Hogwarts, the castle laid on a cliff, the ocean waves crashing against the stone, 15 miles beneath their feet. Around a hundred of pinnacles seemed to reach the sky, the dark construction shadowing their bodies. Others towers and buildings occupied the area around the somber castle, bridges drew a rocky path to the city wall in a barren land, surrounded by fog. Below the stony cluster, you could hear and feel every kind of dark creature, hunting, killing, running, living.

And the children waved goodbye to their parents. Different languages, a great change to Hogwarts. There were German, Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, Polish, Czech, Slovak, Ukrainian, Bulgarian, Serbian, Hungarian, Finnish, Estonian, Dutch and even Russian. Koldovstoretz and Durmstrang shared their students. The students of East Europa received two invitations to attend magical schools – if they were pureblood or half-blood – when they were around five. Those you intended to attend Durmstrang should learn German, the language of the classes, while the ones from Koldovstoretz, Russian. Still, there were Russian students at Durmstrang, as there were German students at Koldovstoretz.

“ _Hallo_. Are you a seventh year? I don’t remember you from last year.” A tall and sturdy teen asked, with dark hair and high cheekbones asked with accent she recognized as Danish.

Freya smiled, remembering her own appearance. She was supposed to be fifteen now, but she looked like seventeen.  The thing she most appreciated in her new appearance was her matured and slender body. Her face had gained more elfish aspects and she now height 5’5 feet, losing a bit of her petite form (Tom still regarded her as petite, but he was 6’4). She wore the Durmstrang Uniform – a double-breasted tailed jacket, a fishtail skirt and a silk shirt, all black.

“ _Hej._ I'm a transfer student. Home-schooled, my father decided it was time for a bit of socialization. I'm in the fifth year.” She answered in his native language.

“So I am. Herman. Herman Stenberg.” He introduced himself extending his hand.

“Freja Zorya Helveda.” She and Tom had chosen that name two weeks ago, and while Freya was very uncommon at England, it wasn't that rare in Norway.  

“Wanna come with me?”

 “Okay...There are them!” Herman pointed to a group of teenagers ahead. They walked to them, the wizard using brute force while the witch chose for a banishing spell.

“Hey, Manes. What took you so much time?” A wizard with a wide forehead, beautiful green eyes and a shaved head asked. “I saw this beautiful lady.” The Danish answered, greeting his friends.

“I’m Freja, Freja Helveda.” The dark lady smiled to them.

“Bedřich Adamík.” A teen with protruding hazel eyes and sharp expressions greeted. “The one in a homosexual demonstration with Manes is Niilo Oiva Harmaajärvi. Hey, Niilo, greet the beautiful lady Freja. Can I call you Freja? Yes? Thank you.” And the boy went to save his friend from a very heated hug – between the Herman and the Finnish wizard that had called them.

“Are you a transfer student? Are you from Russia? They are the only ones in our exchange program, so you must be Russian. Great! I was tired of being the only Russian in our year! Nastya Zolnerowich, nice to meet you.” A witch with dyed cherry hair and amazing blue eyes smiled.

“ _Привет_. Sorry to disappoint you, but I just speak it.”

“Don’t be. This imp should know that Helveda isn’t a Russian surname. Alexandra Császár.” A witch with a wavy ash brown hair, her left eye was grey and her right, hazel.

“I’m Rembrandt Schwarzenberg.” A wizard with messy blond hair, a goatee and turquoise eyes shook her hand, firmly.

“ _Aangenaam_.” She answered in Dutch, once again noticing the accent.

“Viktor Krumov.” A very tall, sallow-skinned wizard with a dark hair and eyes said.

“ _Örvendek_. I believe you are also known as Krum in West Europe, don’t you? A bit of Quidditch, maybe?” The wizard laughed at this. “Still trying. I’m going to be tested to the Bulgarian National Team this year, maybe I’ll be able to compete in the Eastern European Championship.”

“He is being humble. Of course he will do it.”  Bedřich told her, smiling. “It’s good to see you guys again. And great to meet you, Freja.”

“He is hyperactive.” Explained Alexandra. “Yes, but you love me.” The witch ignored the boy.

“So, Freja? What do you think of my friends?” Herman inquired, setting himself beside her. “I can work with them. You are going to the West Hall?” The students nodded. “I will meet you there, then. I need to have a small talk with Karkaroff.”

“You know the Headmaster?” Niilo asked.

“Close friends.” She winked to them. “Besides, I need to be introduced.”

“I’ll see you at dinner, then. But you will see me before.” She said, vanishing in the crowd of students, just to shadow walk.

* * *

 

“So, Tom said that you were having some…problems with the students. I already know the names, don’t try to inform me. But I want you full cooperation. Do I have your full cooperation?” Freya asked, sat in the Headmaster chair, caressing Thanátos in a threating way.

“Of course, my lady.” The Headmaster said, not really eyeing the snake. He knew that although that was the second deadliest snake in the world, it was nothing in comparison with the power in the wand that lay untouched in his throne-like chair. And that was what he was staring.

“Yes, I know this. It’s a beautiful school, you must be proud. I’ll be at the Heolstorcofa Castle. Hope you don’t care.” She transformed her snake in a small pendant, hanging it on her choker.  “Now, I believe we must have dinner.”

“As the lady wishes. Shall I have the honor  of escorting you?” Karkaroff was a tall, thin wizard with a severe expression and rough traces. He presented his right arm to lead her, which she accepted.  Iron wall scones illuminating their way.

Durmstrang had high ceiling, with ribbed domes. The boss reproduced images of the Coat of Durmstrang that was also in the corbels. The wreathed columns with capitals showing wizard tales held lancet arches. The floor was made of pure black marble and in some areas, covered by tapestries.

In the larger passageways, statues of famous wizards and witches lay in niches and walked in theirs supports, some greeting, but most of them just observing. A statue of a fragile looking witch bowed to her, as did a man with a long beard – a sorcerer, she noticed. She didn’t know their names, but looking to their clothes, in wasn’t that unexpected. If they had lived after the third century, she would kill herself.

They arrived at a small chamber full of adult wizards and two witches, all of them wearing black military jackets – that were much more elegant than the uniform of Hogwarts’ staff. They were sat in armchairs, talking pleasantly, and all of them stood when the Headmaster entered.

“Lady Freja, your teachers.” Karkaroff presented, looking to his staff. “Lady Freja Zorya Helveda is homeschooled. She will be attending Durmstrang this year, in her fifth year.”

“Nice to meet you all. May I have your names?”

A young wizard with long black hair in a ponytail and gentle features greeted her in a handshake. “Augustus Aaldenberg. I teach Dark Arts.”

“Your most famous course, I believe. You must be honored.” Freya said while the wizard took time to agree.  The man laughed at this.

A muscular man with dark curls and a tanned skin introduced himself as Brynjar Falk, the Duels teacher. A tall woman, with an austere appearance and ghostly skin called herself Edith Blumstein, the Etiquette teacher. The fat was-handsome-when-young blond was Albert Dürr, the Transfiguration teacher.

“Aleksey Orlov.” A fair-skinned wizard with aquiline nose and dark brown hair was her Light Arts teacher. The other woman, with cherry blonde hair and aqua-blue eyes introduced herself as Fanni Linna, the Potions Mistress. Vasyl Holub was a silver haired Ukrainian that taught Runes.

Klemens Karstensen, a slim arithmancer with dark-blue eyes and around 6'6 feet resembled a heron.

“Emmerich Huff.” A forty years wizard whose ash blond hair brushed on his hips kissed her hand, his violet eyes staring hers - the Divination teacher.

One skeletal man with a sly smile that didn't resembled Sprout in anything but his profession, introduced himself as Diederich Böher. Dominik Pokorny, a small man with a gentle smile but rough eyes was the Magical Creatures teacher.

Gernot Ambruster was the last one, the Combat teacher was a dark brawny wizard. Freya knew there were others, extra class teachers. Igor had told her that all of them (students and teachers) lived in the village inside the Citadel, but only some of the teachers sat at the West Hall Table, the others chose to stay at their homes.

The doors were opened, revealing the largest chamber she had already seen outside Farraige de Olc. The 40 feet ceiling was surrounded by Darkness, trapped in the shadows. In the left and right there were two smaller passageways with lancet windows. A giant chandelier hung above the table, apparently supported by nothing. The seemingly infinite table, calculated Freya, had around 500 yards. Very unique. The matched iron chairs and table had an elaborate design, seats with dark green velvet cushions.

They walked for five minutes until the center of the table while the students stood raised on their feet. The Headmaster waved to them at the same sat.

“Welcome once again to Durmstrang.” Karkaroff said with a sonorous. “This year Professor Aaldenberg will be joining us once again, teaching Dark Arts. Many think that the ones who use dark magic are cruel, evil wizards. Many label this school as an institute to train these wizards. All of this…is a misconception. Light and dark, good and evil - this line wasn't created by magic but by wizards. It doesn't exist. Magic is magic, and all branches of it can save or kill. Durmstrang doesn't believe in the superiority of one branch over another. We welcome the wizards with originality and daring to learn them. Don't let ignorance curses you.”

Silence reigned in the West Hall as the students assimilated the speech.

“Besides the first years, three students will be joining the upper years. Mr. Matvey Koslov and Ms. Arina Akaev are exchange students from Koldovstoretz and will be at sixth and fourth years respectively. Lady Freja Helveda will attend the fifth year. We welcome all the new students, and remind you that duels and feuds must be solved in the East Coliseum. Rule breaking won't be tolerated. Finally, your schedule can be seen at the Information Centers, in all districts. Memorize them.”

Freya shared a secretive smirk with Karkaroff before sitting between Herman and Rembrandt, in front of Nastya.

“So…do we want to know the reason to your arrival with Karkaroff?” Nastya asked.

“I remind saying something about me meeting him before departing?”

“Yes, of course you did. But that’s the protocol. Karkaroff never let students arrive with him. I believe that if Grindelwald was of our age and not an old man rotting in Nurmengard and returned to Durmstrang even then Karkaroff would refuse to do what he did.” Niilo told her, with a questioning expression.

“I guess that my position in this school is very clear then.” She winked to the wizard and witch, another laugh echoing her amused expression. “Congrats. You just survived the quiz. A very fast survival, by the way.” Bedřich said, still laughing. Eventually, they let the subject die, changing it to her meeting with the teachers.

“What do you think of Aaldenberg? He is hot, don’t you think? I’ll definitely try something, who knows?” A girl, her name was Ada, Freya believed, asked, receiving several nods and commentaries. Freya showed the silver and emeralds ring that Tom had given to her in July, a bonding ring that she was using as a wedding band. “To me it’s just hot. Can’t do anything else.”

“Are you married? Rembrandt’s sister is going to marry in seven months; she is at the seventh year.” Herman told her.

“Yeah, Marijtje - Cornelia’s fiancée - is going to move to Durmstrang to her eighth year. Your husband didn’t? Most of married students prefer to end their studies like Cornelia.” Rembrandt inquired, gently. “Maas travels a lot, so we chose to don’t life together. But Karkaroff allowed me to visit him, so I’ll be sometimes absent.” She half-lied, taking a sip of her aquavit (dwarf made, very alcoholic), in front of her, Nastya appreciated a bit of mors.  It was very good to attend a school without alcohol rules besides don’t get drunk.

“When did you marry?” Alexandra asked. “I was fourteen, one year ago at August.”

“Freja is committed, then. Did you hear boys? Get away!” Nastya joked, receiving a fake-punch from Bedřich. “Yeah, little imp. As Sasha  said, ignore her – everybody does. Beautiful pendant by the way.” He pointed to Thanátos.

“Viktor? Want to make a comment here?” Herman asked to the quiet wizard that grumbled a little before shaking his head, smiling while writing something in a notepad. Freya quickly took a glance at it, seeing a complicated calculation.

“To a 20ft dive in a Cleansweep Eleven you should turn two seconds before the impact, a ten seconds fall with this wind, of course, to keep the control of the broom you would do a fifty-three seconds dive. A 330o radian turn and Voila! A Wronski Feint – useful.” The Bulgarian eyes shined with the explanation. “Have you already done it?”

“I like to fly, it’s relaxing. Have been flying since a little child. If you want I can show you.” She said, with a gentle smile to the quidditch player. “The Woollongong Shimmy is perfect, though. Can I assume that you already mastered it?” The wizard nodded. “And a week ago I mastered the Rijn Turn.”

“One of the most useful movements in Quidditch, unfortunately most players never learn to do it. I’m sure that you are already superior to the whole England and French National Teams.  I don’t know about others, however, as I just watched this game last year.”

“Not very good, if I remember rightly.” Viktor commented.

“No. I assure you that it was one of the worse quidditch games of history. Your memory didn’t fail.” Freya snorted. “But this year the whole Europe seems to be better.”

“Odin! Viktor found his mate, unfortunately she is already married. How does it feels, Krumov?” Niilo used an interview-like tone, with a doubtful _Bad?_ As response.

“I know that Krumov is a Quidditch player. What about you?” Freya asked, as if she was truly interested. “Herman,” Bedřich pointed. “It’s the heartbreaker. Doesn’t know to do anything else than seduce all living soul in the school. He is supposed to be a gentleman, too, but don’t be fooled.”

“As my friend was saying, I was educated to have a humble and pleasant behavior around ladies and lords. Mr. Adamík, though, fits the description of a man with a lack of brain cells and a questionable humor sense. But, as a gentleman, I should say that he is a great fighter. Muggle fighter.”

“Thank you, Herman, for not being a prick. Maybe Bedřich can learn something of you. Our little Miss Császàr is our runes dictionary. A very large dictionary.” Rembrandt told her. Freya touched her left ear, where the aging rune was engraved in her own blood. “A great aspect, I must say. Do you have knowledge in archaic runes?”

“You mean Assyrians, Hittites, Sumerians, Phoenicians…like those? Most of them are forever lost.” The witch answered. “I have already come across of some. Maybe I can show you.” Freya offered.

“Seriously?” The girl shouted, standing up and making several heads turn in their directions. “Erm, sorry.” The witch said, sitting again. “They cannot be very far away, though, I wouldn’t want to abandon these kids.”

“Ugh, you forgot to say that she is also our mom, Rembrandt. He is out daddy, by the way, besides being a musician.” Nastya told her. “Have you already tried painting?” Freya whispered to herself, amused. As expected, none of them heard.

“Nastya comes from a family of wandcrafters.” Niilo explained. “But as everyone knows, creating wands uses the whole brain and leaves a small space to the rest. So…”

“Ignore her. I get it.”  

“Ok, that’s unfair. I guess I’m a little childish, but hey! I’m fifteen.” Nastya pouted.

“ _Нет, дорогая._ _They are lying, nobody will ever be able to ignore you_.” Freya confided in Russian, making the girl smile. “ _Ты мне нравишься!_ A toast to Lady Helveda.”

“I would like to toast. But I have no idea what the two of you spoke before, my dear.” Herman said. “So, continuing, Niilo training to become a potions master. Don’t accept a potion of his, though.”

“Why?”

“You'll never know what he put on it.” 

* * *

 

September 16th, 1992 – Norway

It didn't take longer than two days to Freya decide she preferred Durmstrang over Hogwarts. The classes, although easy to her, were very entertaining and for the first time in her life, Freya had to share the first place in a class - Combat. Herman hadn’t joked when he had praised Bedřich for hiss swordsmanship.

Duels was the easiest class to her, even easier than Dark Arts (that she could practice in coma). The only time  she had worked a little to achieve her victory was when subduing Professor Falk. Not that his class anything - no, all Durmstrang classes were very complete - but nobody could expect less than perfection from someone who had learnt her first spell at the age of one year, three months and six days. They had duel class in the East Coliseum and Combat at the South. The West had been transformed long ago in the Quidditch Pitch.

The Citadel was gigantic. Most students lived at the Sigrdrífumál Village, in large stone houses, a street to every year. The teachers lived at Kennasál Village together with some graduates that had never abandoned the school. In the second village there were fairs, festivals, stores that sold everything - art materials, a music store,  an apothecary, books, sweets, alcohol, clothing, jewels, broom articles, a smithy - and taverns.

Heolstorcofa Castle had been abandoned for a few centuries before she came, but some well-placed runes took care of it. It was a small castle, sharp and dark crusted on the wall of a cliff - of difficult access to non-magical. The castle had beautiful Winter Gardens, an elegant gothic furniture and high chamber. She had created a rune transportation to Farraige de Olc and Slytherin Rooms inside it.

Freya was at the North Coliseum, near Heolstorcofa Castle. After two weeks, they (Freya and Krum) had finally managed to coordinate their fly plan, creating one of the most amazing sights at Durmstrang, synchronized flying. They dove in an Wronski Feint, laughing while the wind hit their faces, and swirling around each other.

“Turn!” Freya shouted and they flew apart, their feet caressing the sea. A hundred students cheered, still seated at the Coliseum.

The Bulgarian followed her closely, both of them had never lost the sight of the Golden Snitch but they decided to fly a little before catching it. The wizard performed the Wollongong Shimmy to avoid the geyser Freya had created. The witch did a Hoëne Turn before crashing in the wall the other had conjured.

“Good move!” The teen shouted, fighting with the wind she had manipulated.

“Yeah, you too!” She praised while watching the Golden Snitch being caught by her rival.  
The public went crazy.

“And Krumov catches the snitch after losing to Helveda eighteen times! Congratulations, Viktor, you just beat a goddess!” Bedřich announced after casting a sonorous. Freya bowed, thanking the applauses and smiling to the encore demands.

“Well done, Krumov.” She patted the shoulder of the rejoicing wizard. “Now we must go down. I believe we have some audience, both of them laughed while getting down. “That,” said Nastya between hundreds of claps of unknown students “was fucking awesome.”

“When Niilo and Bedřich told us they have found the two of you training, I dared to think about Quidditch Training. I've never felt so much regret.” Rembrandt confided.

“Since when the two of you are creating miracles?” Herman asked. “Two weeks ago. I couldn't leave this talent alone.” Freya said.

“Today is the first time I win. I cannot actually believe that I did it.” Viktor had a giant and idiotic smile in his face that he wasn't able to abandon. “Okay, now you can go to the National Team.” Herman joked, sarcastic.

“Telling the truth, you can. Viktor entry in Bulgarian Team would probably lead them to the Quidditch Cup.”  Freya spoke seriously.

“Do you really think that I can…”

“It’s not you can. It’s you are already inside it to me, _любим_ I already talked with Grigori Kovachev three days ago. If you wish to enter at the Bulgarian National Team all you need to do is travel  to Sofia this Saturday and play a game.”

Krum wrapped her in a very heated hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 “Ugh…maybe you could get me a Potions Master Certificate, too?” Niilo asked, hopeful.

“Sorry. But when you feel ready ask me and I’ll date a test to you with a very near date.”

“You mean without the huge waiting list? Thanks, Freyja – note: it’s very weird to call the goddess name after meeting you.”

“I can see that. And Engström no, I don’t want to be at the Quidditch Team. If I wanted, I would enter in Denmark National Team, don’t you think? After all, why would I pass the chance to defeat Krumov? No – I don’t play Quidditch for the last time, get away!” Freya shouted to the Capitan of Durmstrang Team.


	10. A Mask that Falls behind the Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aurora Borealis and Shock Therapy to the time when all masks fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Harry Potter, obviously. And I don't have a beta, quite obvious too.

> _"For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,_  
>  _And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;_  
>  _At whose approach ghosts, wandering here and there,_  
>  _Troop home to churchyards."_  
>    
> 
> 
> _\- William Shakespeare_

September 19th, 1992 – Norway

Freya was sat in a very lovely couch at Schwarzenberg House, the house Rembrandt and his relatives – the seventeen Cornelia, the eighteen Willem and the twelve years Lysbeth – had received after Cornelia announcing her weeding. It had a small garden with gerberas, calla lilies, primroses and orchids. Rembrandt played oboe, a muggle piece called Letter d’amour, composed by Antal Doratti, rather nostalgic and mysterious in Freya’s opinion.

Viktor would return in half an hour, if Kovachev’s house elf hadn’t lied (very improbably). Niilo had vanished in his own house, bowing some addictive potion (his favorites, which he sold to students). Nastya was reading a wandcrafting book – an art much more complex than wandmaking – and Bedřich was chopping some flowers silently, as if they had offended his mother.

Sacha was engraving some runes in a lame stick that Freya recognized as high-demanding life-giving runes, thankfully, she was also writing cancelling runes as a living stick wasn’t something very convenient. Herman was playing _ludus duodecim scriptorum_ in a room with Lysbeth. Cornelia was sketching her younger brother in the garden while Willem played with a spider, casting several torturing curses on it – he had assured them that it was a Dark Arts, but nobody gave a care.

Her situation was weird. Durmstrang, she discovered, had several different ideas about Dark Arts. There were prejudiced wizards anti-muggleborns that adored Grindelwald, neutral wizards that preferred forget about Dark Lords and prejudiced wizards that hated Grindelwald. All of them associated Voldemort with Grindelwald. Most of them saw Dark Lords as killers and cruel beings that would kill everyone they wanted. Most of them saw tyrants, not a war, not a problem before the war.

If you approved Grindelwald, then you had to hate muggles and love Voldemort and killing. You were evil. If you didn’t have an opinion about Grindelwald or muggles or Voldemort, then you couldn’t have about other topics.  You couldn’t fight and you couldn’t discuss the topic. If you hated one, you hated all the others. You were good. Now, Freya could really understand Karkaroff speech – about something that didn’t exist in the school. They created demons and heroes. If Freya was already a Sociology graduate, she would find the situation interesting, but she could only describe it as annoying.

But her own situation was interesting. Viktor was the third option, he hated Grindelwald, so he had learnt to hate the rest too and defend muggles. Niilo hadn’t morals, so nobody actually expected him to fit in any other description than the first. Schwarzenberg family, like Greengrass and Malfoy, was a dark pureblood family and Rembrandt, because he had received these ideas before Durmstrang, didn’t fit in any descriptions – but his case was rare. Different than in England, Grindelwald had happened two generations before than theirs, so the teenagers didn’t had a dark accepting ambient, as that had become sort of a taboo even in pureblood societies (if you accepted the dark, you accepted Grindelwald, and the generation after that wizard had destroyed all walls that protected these families).  

The others were neutral. Most of the students were, the taboo was too much engraved in society to anyone talk about the subjects – dark or light, Grindelwald, Voldemort. Their group was the most common example of friendship in Durmstrang; they avoided the subject, the lived and joked without mentioning it. And differently than Hogwarts, Durmstrang had thousands and thousands students, all of them infected with those restraints.

In Hogwarts, everything was working well. Daphne, Draco, Neville and Kagewa had assumed her position, taking turns and at the end of the day, she always received an update and gave some advice to them. Theodore and Hermione had produced a tesseract for five minutes, before it disappearing – after that Michael Corner and Lisa Turpin had joined them. Neville had discovered that Luna was a seer after Freya consideration, Luna and Yuuki were working with that idea now. Pansy, Blaise and Masumi had started a non-magical combat class. Millicent had thrown the first interhouse tea party, and according to herself, gained rather useful information by the most classical way – gossip. Freya was almost sure that Tracey would start a harem soon, maybe with Blaise help, and she approved the idea – after all, who better than a two twelve years to free the whole school of that annoying sexual tension? (Other reason to her fondness of Durmstrang was probably the liberal attitude most of them had about sex).

According to them, her ex-brother had caused some fuss after noticing her disappearance, but Yuuki revealed her Yuuki-onna heritage (to tell the truth, it was her elemental powers, but if they didn’t know Freya wouldn’t tell, the girl should have her reasons) and froze him. Freya cursed when she noticed that she couldn’t see Lloyd Potter ice statue and entered in Hermione mind to see the memory. That made her noticed that they needed occlumency training – even if most of the Slytherins had already some shields.

Hermione first question when they met was how Durmstrang was, so she told them. About the whole Citadel, the practical and independent classes, the beautiful architecture, the sea, the different languages, the villages, the stores and the sexual paradise (well, she told the last part to Tracey, Pansy, Blaise, Daphne, Luna and Draco, avoiding the topic to virgin and pure souls of some of her ex-classmates). She didn’t share the problems, but nobody could expect her to do it.

/Deep thoughts, my lady?/ asked Thanátos. Nobody reacted to the snake that lay in her lap, listening the song. They were already used to it – a very different reaction had occurred, though, when the black mamba had made her first appearance. /Thinking about the school. They will discover soon about my identity – I know. They are already suspicious and I’m not even trying to hide./

/My lady created a story to hide her identity./

/No, I lied about my past, just it. I’m talking to snake, I use dark curses freely at duels – and you know that although they are allowed most don’t – and I actually showed the rune in my ear to Sacha./

/technically, you didn’t. You just touched it and she, as expected, looked to the area later./

/Thanátos. You know that I had the intention of her doing it, so I showed./ She hissed in a louder tone, attracting some glances, that turned away when seeing her own eyes staring them. /See? Suspicious./

* * *

 

That night, the aurora reached the Norwegian skies. At least, the North skies. Freya had gone to Heolstorcofa Castle after a small party at the apartment Viktor shared with Bedřich thrown when the Bulgarian arrived at Durmstrang with the good news. The others had gone to Kennasál Village grab some drinks. She had refused, knowing that Karkaroff would accept them getting drunk after knowing he had a national quidditch player in his team – he would never let Viktor arrive with him at the West Hall, though, this was a privilege only to Freya (well, in the students opinion, as she and Igor knew the honor belong to a certain headmaster and not a certain dark lady).

She had changed her clothes into a pastel blue silk V-neck peignoir and a fur white cape, in what was probably the most luxurious nightgown in Durmstrang. Leaning in the balcony of her room she watched as the first northern lights reflected in the calm sea. The green run across the dark sky, dancing the most beautiful waltz already seen by the human, with the silent night as its music. Swirling around, the red surrounded it, the high altitude taking effect, the lights carrying her to the sky. Nobody could remember the cold. Nobody could remember the pain.

There was peace.

The dancing spirits of gods in Australia, the peacemakers at the sound of drums in Scandinavia, the merry dancers to the spirit of the dead in Britain, the bridge named Bifrost, the play of whales in Estonia, the spirit of dead virgins, firefoxes that brushed sparks with their tails in Finland, Freyja riding on a horseback. Freya smiled, remembering Sleipnir and Tom.

The highest level of afterlife, the lights that could take someone from earth if this one whistled, the souls of young babies, the game of the spirits played with human skulls. Some said it was a bad omen, and maybe it was, but never to everyone. To her, it was the start of a new era, the time she passed with her Tom.

It was perfect.

The water crashed at the stones beneath her feet. There she was, on a balcony above the Arctic Sea, in the ends of the earth, at the beginning of the universe. And she could hear the call, the call of the lights that moved in a spiral. The circle of life.

It wasn’t heaven. It was Hell. The rose-pink turned scarlet, the green became the Killing Curse. The Aurora was often related to war. Often related to upcoming events. The Aurora was to the sinners.

_Has someone already received a more obvious sign of war?_

  _For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,/And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;/At whose approach ghosts, wandering here and there,/Troop home to churchyards./_

_Thank you, Shakespeare, for being so exact._

She started humming a song she didn’t know the name, she didn’t even know if it existed. And she remembered – it was Tom’s song.

/Back in a bawling burgh,//Return to the timeth whence a tiny sirrah wait'd f'r me//Back to a bawbling burgh//To whence the m'rt hangeth its carrion men//Wh're a accus'd begg'd f'r m'rcy//Back to a bawbling burgh//To whence a tiny sirrah w're a black band//Beware of the day//When the sky shout f'r m'rcy//When the lighteth parteth from branches//Back to a bawbling town//Run fast'r, child//Beware the screameth//Back to a bawbling burgh//Wh're a tiny sirrah ask'd f'r his moth'r//Back to a bawbling burgh//Wh're the carrion men hangeth in a tree//Back to a bawbling town//Wh're the lights came from sticks//

It was the only song she had ever heard Tom sang – a song in Parseltongue. An old song sang by witches and wizards to theirs children, teaching them to hide their magic or otherwise they would face the consequences. 

“I didn’t know it was actually possible to sing in the Serpents language.” A voice – Bedřich – said. “So many secrets.”

“Well…actually you cannot. But I can.” Freya answered, still watching the sky, totally aware of the six sets of eyes staring her back. “However I must admit that I have some idea why are you here, and I’m almost sure it isn’t to ask me about my singing ability.”

“What are you?” Sacha asked, eager to a response. “A time traveler? An assassin? A spy? A dark wizard, obviously, but what else?”

“What do you know about the last speaker?””

“Voldemort? Are you his daughter? Maybe himself?” Nastya accused.

“His mate, to tell the truth.”

 “What did you want of me?” Viktor asked, in a betrayed tone. “Of you? Your friendship. It’s good to have powerful friends, and all of you are powerful. Rembrandt, you must understand the concept.”

“I do. But I’m not the Dark Lady.”

“Yes, yes. It’s strange how all of you avoid this topic. Dark Arts? Light Arts? You have both of them as classes, but run away from its concepts as if they were the Purge.”

“What did you expect? Grindelwald killed, Voldemort killed, and the Light killed! If we were to judge everyone for their crimes, we wouldn’t have companions. And you cannot expect us to accept all this crimes.” Nastya shirked.

“No. I don’t want a judgment. I want to separate concepts. Everyone kills, so that’s alright? That’s surviving and let me tell you: Surviving has nothing to do with right or wrong, because those two don’t exists. There are light and dark, and grey and all colors you want but there are no good or evil. These are concepts created by foolish humans to fool more humans and don’t exist in the Earth. They are created, fabricated like a tesseract, and cannot be seen in reality. Must I show you?”

“What will you do?” Herman inquired.

“We’ll do a little trip. _Taxídia amáda aíma Farraige de Olc, Beldams Hunteth Hall.”_

She felt her blood activate the ward, pulling the seven beings through the continent and landing them at a large hall that for years she had avoided. In her left, lay five Pensieve with memories swirling in the water. Ahead, moving painting showed the images of woman being hung or burned, screaming and pleading.

In her right, several instruments in niches used to torture. A hundred of the most horrific instruments already used in witches and wizards.

“This…is what muggles do when facing something.” Freya introduced, showing the wall. “The Judas Cradle, you could sit in this pyramid-seat and have your legs tied for hours, every time you moved you would cry. The Coffin Torture, how does it feel, to be kept in this body-shaped cage, many dead witches and wizards can answer you, most of them never passed afterlife, arrested by pain. This is the Brazen Bull, you put someone here and then, you burn…it said that the screams sound like an ox. The Scold’s Bridle, so many spikes in this iron mustle, don’t you think? The Rack Torture, as you can see, means to be quartered alive. The Chair of Torture, so many spikes penetrating into your skin…very nice. This is good, if you don’t have problems with your orifice being mutilated with hideous Choke Pear. The Breast Ripper is very simple, you put the claws in the witch breast and they clench around it. The Head Crusher, as the name indicates, crushes your head, you put your chin in the bar the head in the cap and they are pressed! Not so nice, you must agree. Saws can be found in almost every house, so in the middle ages, wizards and witches were hung upside down and then you sewed through them! Oh, I assure you, it isn’t nice. The Iron Maiden is a container where people were tied and the spikes penetrated the flesh, without affecting the vital organs…they took hours to die. Because of magic. The Spanish Tickler was a simple instrument used to tear the skin apart, without hitting bones or muscles. This is the Garrote, still used to strangle slowly the victim. Flagellation Whipping is also used nowadays. The Pillory is not really a torture, but a humiliation, at least they aren’t if the crowd don’t help in the torture, don’t underestimate the muggle perversion. The Catherine Wheel was a form of public execution by breaking bones/bludgeoning the victim tied to a wheel. The Thumbscrews is an instrument used to break slowly the fingers. The Heretic Fork was tied in the wizard or witch neck, forcing them to keep their heads erect or experience pain. The Knee Splitter could be used in any limb or joint, and the spikes slowly crushed it. This Crocodile Shears, as you can see, are not so little evil things, where the victim’s penis and fingers would be pushed and mutilated. May I continue?”

“The ones I showed you were mostly used at Middle Ages. Here some more used nowadays. The Tucker Telephone come from Arkansas, you putted a ground wire in the big toe and the hot wire at the victim’s genitals and then, send electricity. It was used in a prison in the 1960’s and banned at the 1970’s, but some scientist imported it and started using in wizards some years ago – I remember having a very happy time taking revenge. The Cold Cell is a CIA interrogation technique where the prisoner is held for days, weeks and even years. A year ago Voldemort had to wipe the memory of fifty muggles after they used this in a child for one month, after the same child used accidental magic, here you have a video. Here you have a pimp stick, a clothes hanger made of wire that pimps use for battering prostitutes – that has been adapted to witches some time ago. The parrilla is a method of torture where the victim is strapped to a metal frame and subjected to electric shock used in South America. All South Americans wizards and witches know to try to avoid it. Spanish donkey is a torture device, of which there exist two variations; both inflict pain by having the subject straddle a narrow board. Waterboarding is a form of torture, more specifically a type of water torture, in which water is poured over a cloth covering the face and breathing passages of an immobilized captive, causing the individual to experience the sensation of drowning. It can cause extreme pain, dry drowning, damage to lungs, brain damage from oxygen deprivation, other physical injuries including broken bones due to struggling against restraints, lasting psychological damage, and death. Hot box is a form of torture by imprisoning a person in an overheated room, cell or cage, I have already used eighteen mind wiping curses after muggles used this in wizards. The picana is a wand or prod that delivers a high voltage but low current electric shock to a torture victim. The victim is undressed and then tied to a chair or table or hung upside down by the ankles. Often water is thrown over the victim to reduce the electrical resistance of the skin and to increase the effect of the shocks, then they apply it at breasts, head, mouth, genitals and nipples – I know it isn’t good, because I’ve already tried it.”

“When did you try it?” Was Sacha little squeak.

“Five years ago I was captured after a saving mission. But this doesn’t matter. This is a Torture War, and the Muggles are winning it. But I don’t ask for a war. I ask for protection. Protection of the magical culture. Actually, in Britain, people adapt themselves to the muggle culture, and demand that others also do it.  Muggleborns invade Hogwarts and impose their culture, without ever trying to know the wizarding culture and traditions. 60 percent of the magical knowledge that we had at the start of the millennium is lost forever between witch-hunts and books burnings – because this books had some offensive content. Magic is no longer an Art, but an instrument. Muggleborns struggle and panic with accidental magic, without knowing what they are doing and several times, are chased by muggles because they do the ‘impossible’. There isn’t an Orphanage to magical children in the whole world, the same to nurseries. And only two elementary school in the whole Earth.”

“Where are they?” Nastya choked, overwhelmed by the whole verbal attack.

“USA and South Africa. I can continue to explain about torture.”

“No. I would like to know how you know so much about it, though.” Viktor said.

“Enter in the Pensieve. All of you.” She said, already shoving their heads inside the water and casting a translating spell in them.

**A small girl held a dead primrose in her hand, whispering to the flower to live. Suddenly the petals got yellow, prettily and a hand shoved her. “You can’t do this here, Lizzie. Not here, not now.” A little older boy explained, hugging the child. The girl looked up to the ceiling of the hut and said with a frightened voice: “Where’s mummy, Eddie? Where’s daddy?”**

**“Shhh, Lizzie, be quiet.” A scream echoed through the house, and the child got up, recognizing her mother voice calling her name. “Mummy is calling, Eddie. Why aren’t we going?”**

**“It isn’t mummy, Lizzie. It’s just Mrs. Smith calling Annie and Nicky. It isn’t mummy.”**

**“I must tell Mrs. Smith, then! Annie and Nicky are at the lake, they won’t hear her!”**

**“She already knows, Lizzie. They told her.” He said in a calm voice, which disguised his despair to keep his sister near him.**

**“No, they didn’t!” The girl shouted to her brother worried for her friends. Mrs. Smith got very angry when they didn’t show up, and the child didn’t like when her friends got in problems. A group of men invaded the room and Lizzie recognized Mr. Smith.**

**“They are at the lake, Mr. Smith! Don’t get angry at them!” She told the man, confused when the Mr. Baker lifted her brother, shoving him against the wooden wall. “Shut up, demon child.” Mr. Smith lifted her, too, and the six men carried them out the hut.**

**“The child of the Demon!” One of them announced. Lizzie looked to where a giant bonfire rose, flames wrapping around somebody. The screams. They were from there. That should hurt, why was that person doing it? She remembered the time she had burn herself while helping her mother with dinner. Her mother. That was her mother.**

**“Mummy!”**

**“Lizzie, get away, Lizzie!” Her brother commanded, struggling against the tight grip. The girl watched the crowd watching her mother screaming, throwing insults and understood that her mother didn’t like that.**

**Annie and Nicky were there, in Mrs. Smith arms and she wasn’t shouting their names. At least they wouldn’t be in trouble. Then Annie threw a stone in her. Lizzie screamed when the rock hit her back, followed by others. “Daddy!” She called, seeing her father in the crowd. The man gave her a disguised look and threw a rock. “The whore of the Devil deceived me, made me believe that these demons were my children!”**

**“Lizzie!” Her brother called, freeing her from the arms of Mr. Smith, his hand held hers while they ran. They didn’t go far away, in the corner it became obvious that the adults would catch them. “Go! Run! Don’t stop until the night comes! Don’t show your magic! Get away!” Her brother pushed her and the girl understood. She had to run. She couldn’t do magic. She had to get away. No, she couldn’t understand it. What was happening, why didn’t her father help them? Why her brother was so terrified? Why her mother was screaming? Why did Annie and Nicky throw rocks in her? But she had to get away. Staying meant pain. She watched as her brother was slammed against the wall and then fell on the ground, without moving. And she wished to get away.**

**She was at the woods. Hours later she would understand that wouldn’t see her family again.**

“This…is the first memory we have from a Pensieve. Elizabeth, the Pensive, was a witch born in the seventh century. She lived at France and for seventy years remembered the day when her family was murdered. She was four that day. After seventy years, she had finally created the first pensieve and this is the first memory she put there. This is the first pensieve. Five years after creating it, she died and left everything to her apprentice – Claude Réfléchir – his family, eight centuries later and still having the same surname would found Beauxbatons Academy. She had never had a family, fearing what have happened in her childhood.

Nastya, Herman and Viktor sobbed, kneeling near the pensieve. The rough images added to Freya's iron voice stating the facts with a mad indifference were a little too much. Sacha and Bendrich had their faces marked by tears and leaned against the wall, absorbing the information. They had good, protected lives until there, and maybe the shock was too much. Freya couldn't know, the hardness has always been present in her life and she knew she depended of it to survive. Niilo and Rembrandt seemed more prepared to that, but that wasn't surprising - Rembrandt came from a dark pureblood family and everybody knew they didn't care much for children. Niilo had probably some experience with his drugs dealing, but seemed very much shackled by everything.

“There is something else I need to show you. After this I'll give you time. If you wish to return and see the others, just ask me. And I will show you it first-hand sometime.”  
“Don't wanna to see it. Please” Nastya muttered. “Bullshit. You are a human and humans are curious. Go.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you reached this note it means you either liked it or you don't like to leave half-finished chapters. Feel free to comment, kudo or bookmark.  
> Thank you for reading.


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